


Corner of the World 39: Rules of Attraction

by serafina20



Series: Corner of the World [42]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Episode Related, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:20:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 56,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark struggles with the nature of his attraction towards various humans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner of the World 39: Rules of Attraction

They were getting closer. And louder. Clark could hear their feet pounding, their voices, their heavy breathing and snarls.

He took a gasping breath that streaked down his chest like fire. He couldn't breathe, could hardly move. But he had to. They were going to get him.

Wearily, feeling as if his body weighed a thousand pounds, Clark pushed himself to his knees. Dirt was sticking to his hands and clothing, but he could barely feel it, his hands were so numb. It felt as if he were moving through mud, the air was so heavy. It pressed around him, surrounded him, trapped him.

"This way!" he heard a voice call, and he knew it was Nixon, back from the dead, coming to take him.

Fear surged through him and Clark made it to his feet. He stumbled a few steps, unable to run. His feet were encased in cement, even though he was barefoot. They'd taken his clothing, he realized, all of it, except his boxers.

Horrified, he stumbled until he fell against a tree. He looked into the leafy branches, wondering if he could climb up and hide.

"Clark," a pained voice moaned behind him.

"Whitney?" Clark said, startled. He whirled.

Whitney was lying in the clearing, his legs blown off. He was bleeding profusely, holding his hands out to him. "Help me. Please," he begged.

"Oh, God." Clark forced himself to stumble back to Whitney. "Oh, God, Whitney, I ..."

Whitney's hand clamped around his throat, squeezing. He began to glow green, sapping Clark's strength. "This will teach you to touch my girlfriend," he hissed, eyes wild.

"No," Clark moaned, pain wracking his body. The trees around them began to glow green, and he realized they were made of meteor rocks. "I don't ... I'm with Lex. I don't want Lana, I ..."

"How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from the Luthors, Clark?" Jonathan asked, driving a nail made from a meteor into his hand.

"Dad."

"All they do is tear our family apart." He nailed Clark's other hand to the cross.

"You should have listened to your father, Clark," Lionel said as he caressed Jonathan's hip. "You wouldn't be here if you had." He smiled and gestured at the lab they were in. Leaving Jonathan, he walked across the room and picked up at drill. "Let's see what you look like from the inside, shall we?"

Clark began struggling. "No! I ... Ahhhhh!" he screamed as Lionel cut into him. He was laughing, face green from the glow of the walls around them, Clark's blood staining his hands, and Jonathan was just standing there, and Whitney was dead and Lex ...

"Wake up!" Lex was saying frantically, shaking him. "Clark!"

Clark gasped and jerked. Panting heavily, he looked around him in confusion. "Lex?"

"Calm down, Clark." Lex put his arms around Clark and held him tightly. "It's okay, just calm down. It was a dream."

"What ... What h-happened?" he asked shakily, clinging to Lex.

He laughed shakily. "You're going to have to tell me, Clark. I only dropped by to see you off to the dance, and I found you battling dream demons."

The dream began to fade slowly, releasing Clark. Terror still clung to him, and he felt as if he were going to be sick.

Lex stroked Clark's hair and back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"God," Clark gasped, burying his face in Lex's neck. "It was everything. Nixon and your Dad and the football team. Whitney was hurt and then he was made of meteor rock, and Dad was helping them put me on the cross in the field and ..." He broke off and swallowed hard, fighting back nausea.

"Shhhh," Lex whispered, rocking him slightly. "Just concentrate on breathing."

Clutching Lex's shirt in his fist, Clark concentrated on doing just that. His heart was pounding wildly, and fear and adrenaline still made his limbs shake. Lex continued to rock him and make soothing sounds and, the fear began to abate.

"Better?" Lex asked after a few minutes passed. He kissed Clark's temple and pulled back.

Clark nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He pushed hair from Clark's forehead. "You had a nightmare in your own room and I happened to walk in."

"I'm glad you did." He lay his head on Lex's shoulder. "God. I haven't had a nightmare like that in so long." He swallowed hard.

"Do you know what brought it on?"

He shook his head.

Lex sighed. "Well, I guess you're probably feeling anxious about a lot of things right now." He kissed Clark's temple. "My guards have already stopped this year's scarecrow from being strung up. He was a little hurt, so one of them, Eric, took him to the hospital while the rest had a long talk with the football players."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. They're going to be spending what free time they have volunteering for Mobile Meals and the rest home unless they want to be turned in to the police."

"Thank you," Clark breathed, holding Lex tighter.

Lex rubbed his back soothingly. "Thank you for keeping your promise and not going out there."

He nodded. "I just hope the tradition stops now. It's not very, uh, uplifting, you know? Like, I could get setting a scarecrow--a straw one, not person--on fire at the pep rally or something, but stringing a kid up? I don't get it."

"Neither do I," Lex said wearily. He pulled back and rubbed his eyes. "Of all the barbaric things to do, it would have to be that. I swear, Clark, when I saw you in that field, I nearly fainted."

Clark managed a smile. "I know. My near nakedness must have made you lightheaded."

Lex's ears turned pink, but he simply rolled his eyes. "It was more the fact you looked like you were going to lose it any second and puke on my shoes."

He laughed, and the dream faded away completely. "I'm glad you're here. Can I just stay here tonight with you?"

"No. Clark, you'll have fun tonight, I promise. You just need to calm down a little." Lex rubbed his knees and then rose from the bed. He crossed the room to Clark's tuxedo. "I have some news that will cheer you up."

"Oh?"

Lex nodded as he walked back with the tux. "I heard from my contact in California, and Jessie and her father are set up and doing fine. I've got the information he stole in a secure location, and they should be safe to live out their lives."

Clark smiled, feeling an intense wave of relief washing through them. "Thank you so much, Lex. For everything you did for her. Them."

"Of course." Lex knelt on the bed and took hold of Clark's shirt.

He obligingly lifted his arms and allowed Lex to strip him. "But you didn't have to do anything."

"You asked me to."

"Yeah, well ... I treated Jessie so badly, and she and her father were in trouble so I just wanted to help."

Lex shook his head as he went to the dresser and got Clark's cologne and deodorant. " You didn't treat her badly."

"Lex, I ...."

"You fooled around with her, yes. But you didn't have her do anything she didn't want to do."

"But I promised to run away with her and I didn't." He took the deodorant from Lex and applied it.

"Teenagers make promises to each other all the time," he said dismissively. "The two of you had a good time together, and then you helped her get a better life. I'd say, all in all, you probably treated her better than she was used to." He put the cologne on Clark and then handed him an undershirt.

"I guess," Clark mumbled as he put the undershirt on. His alarm went off and he slapped it. "I still feel guilty."

"Why?"

"I used her." He began buttoning up his shirt.

Lex sighed. "And she probably used you. Look, Clark, not to judge by appearances or anything, but she didn't exactly look like a girl who was saving herself for the right guy. At the very least, she'd fooled around with someone before."

"I guess," Clark said, standing. He shucked his jeans and pulled on the tuxedo slacks. "I'm just not comfortable with the fact that I'm capable of being so ..."

"Shallow?" Lex supplied, an edge to his voice. "Look, I know you view sex as something sacred and holy, but it doesn't have to be. I mean, it can be and is between the right people. But, at the same time, it's fun and feels good, and there's nothing wrong with sharing your body with someone you like or are attracted to. You don't have to; I'm happy with you being monogamous. Thrilled, in fact. But everyone is capable of giving in to their baser impulses. Look at Lana; the first thing she did after being affected by the Nicodemus flower was seduce Chloe."

"Someone she loved."

"And Whitney, and you, and me. And you can't tell me she's in love with all of us. Attracted to all of us, yes, but not in love. Lana is the youngest person I know, and the most inhibited when it comes to sex. You're not half as confused as she is, and I'm not surprised that, when your self-control was taken away, you went for a woman you were attracted to."

"If I was even attracted to her," Clark said morosely. He pulled on the blue-green vest and buttoned it.

Lex sighed and knelt in front of Clark, bow tie in hand. "Well, that's another issue entirely, isn't it?"

Clark sighed. "I don't feel well. Maybe I should call Theresa and tell her I'm sick."

"Fifteen minutes before you're supposed to pick her up? I don't think so. Never, ever stand up a woman. Well, anyone. But don't. Unless you are so sick there is a danger of you throwing up on them, make it to the date."

"Yeah, I know." Lex had been pounding rules of dating into his head ever since Theresa had asked him to the dance. "And compliment my date, make sure I ask her questions, and then come up with questions about her answers so she knows I'm listening, dance with her more than anyone else, and do little things to make her feel special."

"Little things like?" Lex prompted.

Clark thought a moment. "Like offer her my arm when we're walking in. Give her my jacket if she looks cold. Get her punch and cookies. Offer to sit out if she looks tired. Uh ... uh ...."

"That's fine. Whatever else comes to your mind." Lex finished tying the bow and put his hands on Clark's arms. "You'll have fun, Clark. Just relax."

He nodded and closed his eyes. "Yeah," he whispered. "Are you sure you don't just want to have sex?"

Lex laughed and kissed him lovingly. "Of course I want to have sex, but you have a dance to attend."

"Yeah, I know." He wrapped his arms around Lex and held him tightly. "Love you."

A gentle kiss was pressed into his lips and then Lex whispered, "I love you too."

________________________________________

Chloe hadn't expected to go to Homecoming this year. It just hadn't seemed as if it would be in the cards for her. It wasn't that she hadn't had fun last year, because she had. She and Pete had made the most of it, even though, for most of the night, her mind was on Clark, anxiously hoping he'd appear and sweep her off her feet in a wonderful, fairy tale moment. It hadn't happened, but in the end, it hadn't mattered. And she'd also enjoyed the Spring Formal, too. Well, as much of it that had actually happened. Before the tornado hit and Clark had to go out and do his superhero thing to save Lana, she'd been having a really good time. There was something very satisfying about putting on a dress and looking really pretty every once in a while. Biannually, even.

But, even with the good experiences she'd had, Homecoming hadn't been a priority to Chloe this year. She hadn't thought she'd been in the mood. Her girlfriend was in Metropolis, and couldn't come down. Clark, magically, had a date which, since Pete was still involved with Jill, pretty much left Chloe as the fifth wheel. It had been fine going stag last year because Pete had been dateless too. But not this year. So, she'd been ready to assign the mandatory Homecoming article to Clark--whether he wanted it or not--when Jeremy Atkins, a junior she knew from covering a few marching band competitions last year, had asked her out. And, because she liked him well enough, and both her friends were going, Chloe had said yes.

Which was how she ended up here, dressed in a crimson formal dress that Lex had encouraged her to buy ("It'll compliment your coloring better than that pink thing you wore to the spring dance," he'd said) talking with Clark and Pete's dates and waiting for her date to stop geeking out over band stuff. Although, Chloe decided as she listened with half an ear to Theresa, she supposed what Jeremy was doing was no worse than her stopping to take pictures every five minutes while they'd been dancing. Not that Jeremy seemed to mind, just like Chloe didn't really care he was huddled in the corner, discussing the traitorous new trumpet section leader who'd transferred from Grandville.

"So, you and Clark have been friends for a long time, right?" Theresa asked, breaking through Chloe's thoughts.

 

She blinked and forced herself to pay attention to the woman she was standing with. She had mixed feelings about Theresa's presence. On the one hand, it wasn't any of her business who Clark dated or whatever he was doing with Theresa. On the other, Chloe really hated that a total stranger was trying to get close to Clark. A totally irrational urge, she knew; after all, Theresa wasn't dangerous and Clark could take care of himself. Besides, Lex was fine with it. He didn't view Theresa as a threat on any level. But he was probably old hand at all of this; Chloe was new and defensive on his behalf.

"Yeah, I have," Chloe replied. "We've been best friends pretty much since I moved here in sixth grade."

"What kind of girl does he usually go for?"

The kind that are male. "Oh, it kind of depends on the girl, you know?"

"You two went to the Spring Formal together, right? Were you dating?"

She shook her head. "Naw. We just went as friends. Clark hasn't had a girlfriend since seventh grade, actually."

Theresa lowered her eyebrows. "Really? Who?"

"Um, Jenny. Wow. I can't even remember her last name anymore. She moved about two months after they started going out. I don't even think they write to each other anymore."

"The boys are coming back," Jill warned.

Chloe turned just as Clark and Pete came back with cups of punch for them. She smiled at Clark, touched that he'd thought to bring her some, even though she wasn't with him.

"Where's Jeremy?" Clark asked her as he moved to stand by Theresa.

"Conferring with the other members of the band," she said, her amusement at the situation coming out.

Theresa laughed. "Apparently, during halftime, all the trumpets were off key. And, what did he say? The section leader didn't tune them right?"

Jill shook her head. "The section leader deliberately tuned them so they'd sound bad," she corrected.

"Right. Because he transferred in at the beginning of the year from Grandville." Chloe rolled her eyes. "Jeremy wants me to write an article about inter-school sabotage and the low morals about these things in Grandville. I told him I'd think about it."

"Sounds like a conspiracy to me," Pete said. "Jill? I believe this is our song." He held out his arm for her and led her to the dance floor.

"They're cute together," Theresa said, eyes on Pete and Jill.

Chloe nodded, turning to her and Clark. Her eyebrows hit her hairline when she saw that they were holding hands. It took her a full five seconds to find her voice and fight the urge to tear them apart before she could answer, "They are, but I don't think it'll last very long. Pete's longest relationship was two months."

"How sad. Why?"

She shrugged, noticing that Clark was looking a little panicked. He kept looking at Theresa and then at their joined hands as if he weren't sure what he was supposed to do. "He's really into it at first," she finally answered. "And then, inevitably, something else--not another girl, but a project or sports or something--will capture his attention, so he's divided. The girl gets annoyed and they break up. Or she does something, and he gets annoyed and they break up. Usually he stays friends with his exes, so I guess it's okay." She lifted her punch to her lips and shot Clark a look.

He blushed. "I, uh, I think he kind of just enjoys dating," he said, trying to take his mind off his hand. "I mean, he's never said he wanted a girlfriend or anything."

Theresa looked up at him, smiling coyly. "What about you, Clark? Do you like to just date, or do you want a girlfriend."

Chloe grimaced and took another long swallow. This didn't look good for Clark. He was a horrible liar, and it was getting very obvious that Theresa was interested in being his girlfriend. In fact ....

"Oh," she gasped, hand going numb. Her cup fell out of her hand, punch splashing down the front of her dress and onto the floor unnoticed.

Lana had arrived.

She hadn't been at the football game, and she'd never given any indication that she was coming to the dance. And Chloe had been relieved. She hadn't wanted to deal with Lana, all made up and looking beautiful.

And yet, there she was. She'd just walked in, dressed in a long, flowing pink dress. The bodice hugged her slim torso, emphasizing her waist and breasts. It was cut low with lace resting along the edge so while you could see the soft swell of her breasts, there was no cleavage showing. It was very Lana and, somehow, extremely enticing. Her hair was curled with half pulled onto her head in diamond combs and the rest tumbling over her shoulders.

She looked like a dream.

Clark put his hand on her shoulder. "Chloe! Are you okay?"

Her entire body felt hot, but she managed a shaky laugh. "I'm such a klutz. An ice cube hit my teeth, and it was colder than I expected. Oh, God, this is embarrassing. I'm going to the bathroom to dry off."

"Do you want company?" Theresa asked, sounding concerned.

"No, it's okay. You two have fun. If Jeremy asks where I am, tell him I'll be back soon." She smiled weakly, glanced at Lana once more, and then left as quickly as she could.

Oh, god, oh god, oh god she was fucked. Totally and utterly fucked.

Blinded by a film of tears, Chloe tore down the halls of the school, holding her skirt up so she wouldn't trip. She made it to the Torch office without bumping into anyone or any walls, quickly unlocked the door, and slipped inside.

Taking a deep breath, she crossed the room and wiped the tears from her eyes. She stretched out on the couch and tried to breathe.

God, Lana was beautiful. Earth-shatteringly so. She'd shattered Chloe's world twice already, and now ....

No. She had Sydney. And Chloe really liked Sydney. She was smart, funny, had a wicked sense of humor, and she looked like a goddess. They got along great, and when they had sex, it was wonderful. Chloe liked her.

And that was the problem. She liked Sydney. No matter how beautiful and fun and wonderful she was, Chloe couldn't get past 'like.' Maybe if she gave it time ....

But how can you fall in love with someone if your heart is already taken?

Chloe's cheeks were wet. Dammit. She hadn't wanted that. It was Homecoming. Her date was a really nice guy who wasn't asking anything more of her than a few dances. Clark's date was pleasant and willing to talk to her. Pete was ... himself, showing a lot less tension that he'd been displaying the past few weeks. And Clark ... Clark was smiling again. Laughing. Really enjoying himself because, for the first time in over two months he was whole.

It was only Chloe who was miserable.

The door opened. "Hey," Lana said softly. "Mind if I come in?"

Chloe, who'd fallen onto the couch, sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Yeah. Of course."

Lana stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Are you okay?" she asked, leaning against the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just PMS'ing or something. Clark's date has me all tied up in knots, you know?"

"What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing. It's just ... I know she likes Clark, so I feel like I should, I don't know, warn her that he's not interested like that. Female solidarity, and all. But, at the same time, I hate that she asked him, so I almost think she deserves what she gets. Which isn't true, and it's horrible of me to think that, but I don't want to have to worry about something happening between them."

Lana shook her head. "Nothing will. It's Clark and Lex, remember?"

Chloe laughed. "Yeah. You're right. I'm being silly."

"It's okay. I totally understand." She crossed the room and sat next to Chloe on the couch. As she sank down, she sighed heavily, and then rested her head on the back of the couch.

"Something wrong?"

She laughed breathlessly. "No, of course not. Why would anything be wrong? I have a date for the dance, I look beautiful, and everything is back on track." Lana put finger quotes around "back on track."

"What does that mean?"

"Nell. It's Nell being happy that I'm finally dating again. Because she thinks I am, even though there is no way I'm ever going out with Travis again. She thinks that my life got off track or something when Whitney and I broke up." Lana laughed bitterly. "She has no idea."

Chloe licked her lips, unsure of what to say.

Lana wiped her eyes. and lifted her head. "Nell thinks ... remember when we first kissed? How I told you about how I had to live the perfect life, get married, have the kid, the house, the perfect husband? You laughed at me, and I didn't get it. I mean, you didn't get me, either, but I ... I didn't understand you."

Pulling her legs underneath her, Chloe turned. "What do you mean?"

"Your dad has no expectations for you. I mean, he does. He wants you to be happy, expects you to get good grades, a good job, that sort of thing. But he's so laid back about it. He lets you go after what you want and how you want it. And Nell ... it's like Nell has been training me to be something. I don't know. She's never encouraged me to think about a career. It's always been marriage and kids and happily ever after. Finding someone to take care of me. She made me into the princess, you know? She read me fairy tales, and showed me romantic movies, and talked about how important it was to find someone to love. She made my parents into these magical, perfect beings, like something out of a story. How they met, how they fell in love, how they lived happily ever after. And because they died, and Snow White and Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty all grew up orphans, I identified with them. And Nell encouraged me. She encouraged me to date a senior when I was a freshman. When I wanted to open the Talon, she talked a long time about the responsibility, and how I should let her do it, or Lex, or find a decent manager, because I wasn't smart enough to do it. Not that she doesn't think I'm smart, it's just, I'm not a businesswoman. She wanted to keep me sheltered."

"Maybe she just wants to protect you from getting even more hurt."

Lana wiped a tear from her eye. "But I do hurt. There's this pain in me because I'm never happy. I try to force myself to be so perfect, it's like I can't breathe or move too much. And then I look at you. I want to be like you, Chloe. You're smart and funny and so strong. I want to be strong. I don't want to be a princess."

Chloe swallowed and took Lana's hand. "Lana, even if Nell wants what she wants for you, that doesn't matter. You do what you want. You are doing what you want. You opened the Talon, got it running, and now are turning a profit. You aren't stuck at home, or on the cheer squad, dating the perfect guy who'll take care of you. You're running your own business."

"But I have to rely on Lex for a lot of help. Lex and Nell."

"So? You're young. I've never met another sixteen year old manager in my life. It's only to be expected that you're still learning."

Lana sniffed. "I don't know how to tell Nell that I'm not interested in Travis. I don't know how to tell her I'm not looking for a relationship and I don't want someone to take care of me." Tears fell from her eyes and dampened her skirt. "The funny thing is, even though she's always trying to mold me into a trophy wife, I always looked up to her. She's strong and independent. A businesswoman. She'd never allow herself to be just an accessory. Except she's acting so weird lately. Like Dean's taken her mind and replaced it with a giggly cheerleader."

"Well. She's in love, and in the first flush."

A frown crossed her face. "You know, sometimes I wonder. It's just such a dramatic change, you know? And he's not her type. Nell's always been attracted to tall, rich, good-looking men. Dean's not."

Chloe shrugged. "Maybe her tastes have changed. Maybe she's grown up."

"Maybe." She sighed and wiped her eyes again. "I'm sorry for dumping this all on you. I think I'm PMS'ing too." Lana laughed a little, more tears gathering in her eyes. "I miss Whitney," she admitted.

"I know." Chloe pulled Lana into her arms and held her tightly. "He was a close friend."

"He was. He really was, and I miss him. Miss having him to talk to, even though I couldn't always tell him everything. I wanted to tell him about us so badly, Chloe. I wanted to tell him everything, so he could be for me what Clark is for you."

Chloe stroked Lana's hair and said nothing.

"I knew I missed him, but it wasn't until coming here that I realized how much. Last year ... last year we were all so different. All I wanted was to be Homecoming Queen and be with Whitney and ... and be popular. You were snarky and funny and really disliked me." She pulled back. "What changed?"

"We grew up. We found out new things about ourselves. You find an inner strength that you didn't know you had. And ... and for a while, I had one of the most wonderful women in the world as my girlfriend." Hesitantly, and wondering what the hell she was doing, Chloe stroked Lana's cheek with the back of her hand.

Lana smiled tremulously. "I was so scared of you last year. You were so unfamiliar to me, and I wanted to get to know you."

"You did?"

She nodded. "You were strong in this way I couldn't imagine. Outspoken, but ... nice. Clever and sharp and bitchy at times, but nice. But I was afraid you hated me, so I stayed away."

"I did hate you, sort of. Because Clark liked you, and everything seemed so easy for you. But then I got to know you better."

"I'm glad. Your friendship is really important to me."

Chloe swallowed and smiled faintly. "Your friendship is important to me too."

She knew what was going to happen even before Lana moved. Her heart started thundering in her chest, limbs liquid. Half-heartedly, she thought to prevent it, to hold Lana back, to do anything but put her hands on Lana's shoulders, tilt her face, and accept the kiss.

Moaning softly in her throat, Chloe slid her fingers through Lana's hair and opened her mouth. Lana's tongue slid wetly against hers. She moved to straddle Chloe's legs and pushed her onto her back as she kissed Chloe hungrily, making small, soft noises deep in her throat. Their breasts, already pushed up in deference of the occasion, pressed against each other, practically bulging over the tops of their dresses. One of Chloe's shoes fell off as she hooked it around Lana's calf, kissing and nibbling down her chin and neck, tasking. She tasted like strawberry lip gloss, punch, and Lana Lang.

Deep in her mind, Chloe knew she shouldn't be doing this. Shouldn't be kissing Lana. Especially not like this. God, they were devouring each other, hands all over the place, lips and teeth sucking and marking. It was wrong, but right, and oh, God, Chloe had a girlfriend. Sydney. And Sydney was smart and beautiful and wonderful and ...

Lana's tongue slid between Chloe's breasts.

"Oh, God," Chloe said, shuddering. She took Lana's face between her hands and pulled her up. "I have this rule about no naughty touching at school."

Lana flushed. "Oh. I got carried away. I just ..." Her hand traced the swell of Chloe's breast. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you lately. Wondering ... things."

"Things?"

She nodded, looking shy. "A lot of things. I've missed you so much." She bent back over and kissed Chloe again.

Their lips met, hungry, passionate kisses slowly giving way to slow, almost languid ones. There wasn't any rush, not really. They couldn't take it any further at school, and Chloe wasn't sure how far either one of them wanted to take it anyway. "Things" could be taken so many ways. It could be second base, or whatever base you were at when you took your top off and played with each other's breasts. They'd never done that before.

"Lana," Chloe whispered, fear freezing her stomach. "Are you feeling all right?"

She giggled and lightly licked Chloe's neck. "I'm fine."

"No run-ins with any dangerous flowers?"

"Not today."

"Meteors?"

"No." Blunt teeth bit her very tentatively, causing Chloe to gasp.

"Class rings?"

"They've all been recalled." Lana propped herself over Chloe. "I'm feeling reckless tonight. I love you, and I miss you. So, I thought I'd take the plunge and see what happened." She tucked a piece of hair behind Chloe's ear.

"Plunge away." Chloe tugged Lana down to her and they resumed their slow, toe-curling kisses.

"Chloe, are you .... Oh, fuck! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Lana and Chloe bolted up together, both crimson and heaving. A wide-eyed Clark stood in the doorway, stock still like he didn't know what to do.

"Close the door," Chloe said, standing.

Lana stood as well, wiping her face. Her cheeks were bright red and her eyes fastened on the floor.

Clark stepped inside and closed the door. "Travis is looking for you, Lana."

She nodded. "Okay. Thanks Clark." She threw a quick look at Chloe, and then slipped out of the room.

The door closed. Clark was staring at her as if he didn't know her.

She tilted her chin defiantly. "What?"

"Chloe," he said, a frown creasing his forehead. "You have a girlfriend."

That took some of her defiance away, but she forced herself to keep meeting his eye. "I know. I know. I just ... it just happened."

"How long has this been going on?"

She shook her head. "It hasn't. Just now."

Clark crossed the room to her and touched her neck. "You have a hickey. How are you going to explain it to Jeremy?"

"He'll understand. Hopefully. I mean, we're just here as friends, and I know it's a skuzzy thing to go make out with someone not your date, but I didn't intend ...." She stopped talking and looked away. Tears welled in her eyes. "Oh, God, Clark, I thought I was over her."

Clark took her into his arms.

Sniffing, Chloe turned her face into his chest, clutching at his tuxedo tightly. "I st-still love her. I don't want to, but I do."

"I know, Chloe."

"What am I going to do? How could I do this to Sydney? I mean ... I cheated on her; how could I?"

He kissed her on the head. "Sometimes we do things we shouldn't. Everyone does it, Chloe. You need to be honest with both Sydney and yourself. What do you want? What's best for you?" He sighed and kissed her again. "You need to tell her."

"I will. I don't want to hurt her, Clark. She's really great, and I care for her a lot. I just ...." She broke off, crying harder.

He stroked her hair and whispered, "I know, Chloe. And it's going to be okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He held her tighter.

"I wish there was a way to be with them both. Or that Lana wasn't an issue. Or that we hadn't broken up. I wish ...." She trailed off, crying harder.

"I know, Clark whispered. "I know."

________________________________________

Clark and Theresa ended up staying until the end of the dance, which was about midnight. After, everyone was supposed to go home, except most people were going out to a party by Crater Lake. Clark held his breath when he asked Theresa if she wanted to go; he was hoping she'd say no. Drinking bad beer with a bunch of his peers wasn't his idea of a good time, and hanging out so near the lake always made him feel a little queasy. It wasn't terribly bad, but just enough to make Clark uncomfortable. Still, he had to ask, because he didn't want Theresa to read too much into him not asking.

Luckily, she said no. She did, however, ask if he could take her to the park. Which was how they ended up walking across the dew-wet grass, talking. Theresa had her shoes off when the got there, and, a few minutes later, Clark had offered her his coat, which she was now wearing.

"I had a great time tonight," Theresa said.

Clark glanced down at her and smiled. "Me too. Thanks for asking me."

She smiled, a faint flush coloring her cheeks. "Well, I figured if I really wanted to go with you, I better ask. You didn't seem like you were ever going to say anything."

Clark felt his face warm. "Well, I thought about it. But I wasn't sure ...." He trailed off and shrugged.

"It's okay, Clark. I asked, and you said yes. That's the important thing." She reached out and took his hand.

Clark froze, almost stumbling over his feet before he remembered to keep walking. This was bad; this was very bad. He was alone with a girl in the park. It was a beautiful, starry night. The air was cool, the grass was shining in the moonlight, crickets were chirping. It was like something out of a movie. And here he was, with a pretty girl, holding hands, all alone.

It was the perfect kissing moment. Except, he didn't want to kiss her. He wasn't even sure he wanted to be holding her hand. It felt nice; Clark liked touching people, and he so rarely got to touch anyone who wasn't Lex, his parents, and, on occasion, Chloe. This felt comfortable, strolling along, hand in hand.

The problem, really, wasn't whether or not he wanted to hold hands, but whether he should. Theresa like him, and she'd made her interest very clear. If he kept holding her hand, she might get the wrong impression, and he didn't want to hurt her. On the other hand, if he let go right now, she'd get hurt anyway. But not as much as she would be if he strung her along.

Clark sighed and made to release her hand when Theresa asked, "So. You and Lex Luthor. What's the story?"

 

"Oh." Clark shrugged and kicked a clump of dirt they passed. "Last year Lex got into a car accident. He drove of a bridge, and I jumped in an saved him."

"Wow." She looked impressed. "I remembered hearing about the accident, but I wasn't sure if it was true. I mean, I don't remember it in the newspapers."

"It was. I mean, the Ledger ran a story, and there was a small notice in the Daily Planet, but my name was kept out of it. On my parents' request."

"Why? I mean, weren't they proud of you?"

He nodded. "Of course. But it would have been weird. I'm glad that no one really knows it was me. It'd be embarrassing. I mean, I didn't do it for my name in the paper; I just had to save him."

Theresa smiled. "Spoken like a true hero."

He blushed.

They walked on a few more steps before Theresa spoke again. "So, after you saved him, the two of you became friends?"

"The best."

"That's cool." She looked away and grabbed the branch of the tree they were walking under. When she released it, it snapped back up, showering them in red-gold autumn leaves.

They laughed and stopped, both holding their faces up into the shower. Leaves stuck to their hair and clothing, and Clark caught one, feeling the dryness between his fingers.

"Here," Theresa said. She took it from him and tucked it behind his ear. Her cheeks were flushed, and breath frosty as she laughed.

Clark grinned and took a leaf that'd falling into her hair. He tucked the stem beneath a lock of curled hair, and then tucked another leaf on the other side, so she had two leaves sticking up like antlers. "Perfect," he said teasingly.

"Do you think so? Maybe I'll start wearing my hair like this all the time." She pulled away and posed for him.

"I think it'll start a new fashion trend."

"I know what you need." She knelt in the grass and picked up a bunch of leaves. "I used to do this all the time when I was a kid." Her fingers expertly twined the stems together and, in about a minute, she had a full leafy crown. Rising gracefully, and seemingly not noticing the wet patches on her dress, she stood on her toes and placed the crown on Clark's head. "There; now no one can say you didn't win Homecoming King. You've got the crown to prove it."

He laughed and crouched, picking up leaves. His mother had showed him how to make crowns when he was a kid, and he'd spent hours pretending to be a king, off rescuing damsels in distress all named Lana.

Actually, when he was a kid, his crowns were more elaborate than this one. This crown was just leaves, but his had been made out of twigs, hay, leaves, and, on occasion, flowers. But this was what he had available, so he rose and placed his crown on her head. It was too big, though, and fell over her eyes until it rested on the bridge of her nose.

Theresa laughed, the sound dancing lightly on the chill air. "It's too big," she giggled. "I'm not that conceited."

"Sorry," he said, unable to keep the smile from his face. Clark stepped closer and lifted the crown, tightening it and make it fit.

It took him a moment to realize the mood hand change. Theresa wasn't laughing anymore. Instead, she was gazing up at him, her eyes big, a flush on her cheeks. She looked very serious and a little nervous.

Clark licked his lips, feeling awkward. "Uh ... maybe I should take you home."

"I don't want to go," she whispered. Sliding her arms around his neck, Theresa stood on her toes and brought their lips together.

The kiss didn't seem to work quite right. He wanted it to, for experimentations sake. He wanted to be attracted to her, and to enjoy kissing her, and to just be normal for one night. But it wasn't working. Their lips mashed clumsily. She felt sticky, and her lipstick tasted funny. Their bodies didn't fit right, and her tongue felt weird as pressed inside his mouth.

Clark broke the kiss, feeling a little ill.

She frowned. "What's wrong?" Theresa asked, wiping the corner of Clark's mouth with her thumb.

"Uh ... Uh, look, Theresa," he said, pulling away. "I like you, I do, but ...."

Theresa stiffened, inhaling sharply. "Is this about Chloe?"

"I .... What?"

"The two of you disappeared for a while. When you came back, she had a hickey. Are you with her?"

For a moment, Clark considered saying yes, only they'd decided to date other people, but rejected it, deciding that the lie would only make things worse. So, he shook his head and said, "No, I'm not. And I didn't give her the hickey. She's going through a bad break-up, and I sort of walked in on a bad moment. Then she started crying once the other person left, so I was comforting her. That's all, I swear."

"Then why won't you kiss me?"

"Because I don't like you like that." He ran his hand through his hair. "I like you a lot, Theresa. You're a great girl. Funny, smart, easy to talk to. But I'm not, I don't know. Not interested in more."

She looked away. "Then why did you come to the dance with me? Why did you come out here?"

Clark shrugged, frowning. "Because I knew we'd have a good time together at the dance. Plus, we don't know each other all that well. I think you're pretty, and you're really smart and nice, but I don't know much else, you know? I thought it would be a good chance to get to know you better."

"And now you just don't like me at all?"

Stifling a sigh, Clark put his hands on her shoulders. "Of course I like you. And I still think you're pretty and really smart and nice and a wholly wonderful person to hang around with. But I'm not looking for a relationship right now, or even really to date anyone. I just want to be friends."

Theresa sniffed slightly and then shrugged. "I would like to be friends too." She sighed. "I had a great time tonight, Clark. Thanks."

"You're welcome. And I'm really ...."

Theresa covered his mouth with her hand. "Clark, don't say you're sorry. It's okay."

He pulled her hand away from his mouth. "Are you sure?"

Theresa hesitated and then nodded. "Totally."

Clark studied her a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay. And I'd like to go to the movies with you sometime. As friends."

She grinned. "As friends." Looking wistful, she touched him on the cheek and then said, "Take me home?"

He nodded and turned to walk back to the car. They walked back in silence and, Clark hoped, a comfortable understanding. He did like Theresa, and he did want to be friends. He just hoped he hadn't lost one tonight.

________________________________________

Lana couldn't stop smiling. She was too happy not to smile. She couldn't remember the last time that had happened, not when she'd won a riding competition, or Homecoming Queen. Not even when Whitney had first asked her out. She hadn't been this happy for a long time.

"Not that it meant anything," she muttered under her breath as she jogged downstairs. "It was just a kiss. It doesn't mean we're getting back together."

But it did. It had to. Chloe loved her, Lana was convinced of that. And she was in a long distance relationship. Those never worked out. Lana had home field advantage.

"Morning, Nell," Lana said as she entered the kitchen. She had been braiding her hair as she traipsed down the stairs and was just tying of the end, so she wasn't paying attention to who was actually in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Lana."

She froze, and the smile died. Tossing back her braid, she looked up and forced a smile on her face. "Dean. I didn't know you were here."

Dean rose from the table and advanced on her slowly. "I got in after you were already at the dance last night. I'm sorry I missed you." He put his arms around her hand gave her a hug. "I saw the pictures Nell took; you looked beautiful."

Very stiff, Lana gave Dean a quick squeeze and then pulled away. "Where's Nell?" she asked, going to the refrigerator.

"She went to the shop."

 

"Really? I would have thought she'd want to stay with you." Lana smiled tightly and pulled the milk out.

Dean shrugged and sat back down at the table. The newspaper was spread out in front of him, and he was dressed in jeans, a tee shirt, and socks, looking very comfortable. And at home, which made Lana's blood boil. He folded the newspaper as he said, "Nell and I will have plenty of time to be together when we're married. We can bear a few hours of separation." And then he smiled and winked at Lana. "Besides, I'm going to see her in about an hour."

"Why wait?" Lana muttered. She pulled am box cereal from the cabinet and fixed herself a bowl. For a moment, she stood at the counter, wondering if it would seem weird for her to eat there. Then she decided that it would look too strange, so she put the milk and cereal away and went to the table. She kept her eyes on her bowl, hoping that maybe Dean would let her eat in peace.

"So, did you have fun last night?" he asked, pushing the newspaper aside and leaning towards her.

Figured he would want to talk. She shrugged. "It was all right."

"Did you win Homecoming Queen?" he asked with a hint of teasing in his tone.

"No. I wasn't nominated." He didn't say anything so, after a moment, she continued, "I won last year, and that was something. I mean, I was just a freshman. No freshmen were even nominated this year, except for Class Princess."

"Why weren't you nominated for a princess?"

Because I'm not one, and I don't want to be one ever again. "I'm not as popular as I was last year. I'm sure no one even thought of me when nominations came around." She smiled in self-deprecation. "I didn't even think of myself."

He sighed and shook his head. "I don't understand. You are a perfectly lovely girl, and deserve to have a million friends. I'm sorry you weren't nominated."

"I'm not," Lana said, looking at him in annoyance. He didn't even know her. "I don't want to be that girl anymore. I like what I'm doing. Besides, the Talon is more important than any stupid dance."

Dean smiled, looking ... proud. "That's my girl." He ran his eyes over her, making her feel hot and sick.

He was getting too weird again.

Lana rose and dumped her cereal into the sink. "I'm going to go riding. If you see Nell, tell her I'll be in for my shift at five."

"Lana ...."

She grabbed an apple and said, "Bye, Dean!" before he could finish his sentence and left the house.

Nell could not marry that man. Lex was right; he wasn't good. He was up to something, and Lana ... well, she didn't have to put up with it. Right?

Except ... Nell loved him. In that silly, hopelessly giggly and romantic way Lana had never seen her like ever. She was happy. Did Lana have a right to ruin that happiness?

Did Dean have a right to ruin hers?

Lana sighed and bit her apple as she walked towards the stables. It was all so confusing. Lana didn't want to make her aunt unhappy, but she didn't want to be around Dean. He made her so uncomfortable. He was creepy.

"I don't want to think about this," she said out loud.

With great effort, she pushed the problem from her mind. She wasn't going to let anything ruin this day for her. For the first time in a while, she felt in control again. There was the possibility of getting back together with someone she cared about, and her future looked good.

Taking another bite of her apple, Lana broke into a run. As long as she could move, she'd be able to keep Dean from her mind and focus on Chloe. And, hopefully, have a good day.

________________________________________

Turning twenty-two had obviously done something to Lex. Two years ago, he would never have been caught dead waking before noon on Sunday. Even last year, it'd been dicey. The only reason he'd gotten up early on Sunday was because Clark had to go home, or he was going to Sunday breakfast with the Kents because Clark had spent the night on Friday, and he was feeling Clark-deprived.

Now, however, he was up early every day. On weekdays, he woke at five so he could stretch and run. On weekends, he rarely slept past seven. And that was without provocation.

Maybe he was growing up. Which, actually, wasn't a bad thing. Getting up early allowed him to exercise, shower, and get some work done and still get to the Kents' farm before ten. It was nice having a long day; it allowed him to get everything he needed done with time to play at night.

Before heading to the farm, Lex stopped by the Talon. Since it was fairly warm--the weather had decided to, once again, shoot up to unseasonably warm temperatures--he got iced blended mochas with extra whipped cream for both him and Clark.

The roads were clear, and Lex flew over them. His music blasted from the radio, his top was down, and the sun beat on his head, making him feel warm but happy. He made the trip in record time, barely getting there before the whipped cream started to really melt.

"Hello?" he called, climbing out of the car. The house looked empty, and he didn't see the truck. Undaunted, Lex headed out the field, and found Clark throwing hay into the back of a trailer hooked to the truck.

"Hey," Lex said with a smile, admiring the way Clark's skin shone in the sunlight. His boy was topless but, sadly, sweatless. Lex couldn't even remember the last time Clark had truly broken a sweat, except the last time his temperature shot up.

Clark stopped what he was doing and leaned against his pitchfork. "Hey yourself."

"Did Cinderella have a good time at the ball?" He walked up to the truck and held up the drink. "Here."

Clark accepted the drink and downed about half the cup in a long gulp. "I did," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "But, sadly, there was no Prince Charming." Crouching, he set the drink down, wrapped his arm around Lex's waist, and then lifted him into the truck.

Lex clutched Clark's arms tightly until he was gently sent on a pile of hay. "No Prince Charming, huh?" Lex sipped his drink, and watched Clark though his lashes as he sat next to Lex.

"No. But you're a good consolation prize." Clark took the cup from Lex's hand and set it aside. Then he straddled Lex's body, pushing him back into the hay, eyes dark.

"Consolation prize?" Lex managed to get out before Clark's mouth covered his own.

His eyes fell shut and Lex ran his hand up Clark's back and into his hair. There was a strange intensity in Clark that he could read through both his kisses and the bond. Clark wasn't entirely ^open^, so Lex couldn't actually hear what was going on, but he could sense Clark's distress.

"Clark?" he murmured when Clark pulled away to lick along his jaw line.

"'m fine," he replied, lips against Lex's skin. He slid his hands underneath Lex's shirt and bit Lex's neck gently.

"I'm sure you are," Lex said, wrapping his legs around Clark's waist. "I hope this isn't pent up frustration from last night." He bit back a groan when Clark twisted his nipple, hips bucking slightly.

"It is," Clark said, kissing his way down Lex's neck. "Frustration at not getting to be with you."

Lex's stomach clench and he grunted. "Not what I meant," he said.

"I know what you meant." Clark kissed him again. "I figured you were kidding."

He laughed. "I was." Lex traced Clark's lips. "You just seem so intense. You ...."

Clark kissed him again, swallowing his words with lips and tongue. "I need to know I want you," he whispered even as he continued to kiss Lex. "And how much I do."

Lex sighed and combed his fingers through Clark's hair. _What's wrong?_ he asked, ^nudging^ Clark's shields aside.

Clark buried his face in Lex's neck. He exhaled hard, hand curling around Lex's neck.

"Clark?"

"Nothing," he finally said, voice muffled.

"Did something happen at the dance? With Theresa?"

Clark shook his head. "No. It's just ...." He sighed and rolled his head so it was resting on Lex's shoulder. "I don't want to have sex with her."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "I see."

"No, you don't. Pete ... Pete, like, practically wants to have sex with everyone."

"And you don't, so you're going to cry."

Clark pulled away. "No," he said sullenly.

Lex sat up. "Hey." He tried to tug Clark back to him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it like that. Come here."

He resisted. "Pete's normal, you know? I mean, I thought I thought about sex a lot, but I don't. Not like he does."

"I know," Lex said patiently. "You're different. We knew that. I only made the remark because I don't see why you get so upset about this." He combed his fingers through Clark's hair. "What does it matter if you don't want to have sex with her? Or anyone but me?"

"Uh ... I had a reason. Didn't I? I mean, you wanted me to think about it, I thought."

He nodded, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Clark could be so dense sometimes, and he so often misconstrued Lex's meanings. Sometimes he wondered if Clark did it on purpose, just so he would have something new to stress over. "Yes, I wanted you to think about it if you were really concerned. I never wanted you to get so tied up in knots about this. It's not that important of a question. Hell, you never even felt as if you weren't attracted to people until Desiree failed to bewitch you with her magical pheromones. It didn't work, and you freaked out."

"If I'm not attracted to humans ...."

"You are attracted to humans. I'm human. And you have been attracted to other people, and you have fantasized about having sex with them. If you haven't done it lately, that's fine. There are no rules of attraction that you are expected to follow. And Desiree wasn't normal; there are a lot of reasons you might not have been susceptible to her mutant powers that don't have anything to do with your ability to form a healthy attraction to another person. Besides me."

"Like ...."

"Like maybe, on the Kinsey scale, you're a four or five. Do you know what the Kinsey scale is?"

Clark nodded and picked up a piece of hay, fiddling with it between his fingers.

Lex nodded. "So perhaps you're attracted to women somewhat, so you check out supermodels, pine after Lana, and consider having a threesome with Chloe and me, but it's not enough to be actively drawn to a larger population of the female sex. Your attraction to men, on the other hand, is enough to inspire some dreams and fantasies about that Taylor guy, maybe Whitney, and to fall hopelessly in love with me."

He smiled and kissed Lex's cheek. "I think I fell hopelessly in love with you because you're irresistible, but I can deal with the possibility I'm gay. But I want to hear your other reasons."

Lex nodded and kissed Clark. "Well, it could be whatever attracts you to people is different from what attracts humans to each other. It isn't pheromones at all that draws you."

Clark threw the hay away. "Then what does?" He pushed Lex back down and lay his head on his shoulder.

Lex shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe touch, somehow. The contact of skin on skin stimulates nerves or hormones, but only certain people can stimulate it."

"Um, maybe, except Tyler couldn't touch me. And, when he did, it definitely didn't feel good."

Lex nodded slowly and shifted, feeling the strands of hay moving around underneath him to accommodate him. It was actually pretty comfortable; he could understand why people might want to roll around in this stuff for fun. "Ok," he said, thinking of possible alternatives, "so maybe it's something mental. Like, brain waves."

"Brain waves?" Clark said doubtfully.

He shrugged. "Your attraction to me is partly because we're linked telepathically. Somehow you sensed me, and our minds linked. It's possible there are other people who are on the same ... frequency as us, I guess. And when you find them, you'll be attracted to them, too."

Clark propped himself over Lex. "Maybe that's why I was blown away by Tyler. Maybe his mind worked along the same frequency."

"Perhaps." He picked up a piece of hay and used it to trace Clark's face. "But I still have another theory. You've lived in Smallville all your life. You've pretty much seen these people every day, at least since fifth grade. They're ordinary to you. Familiar. You're attracted to Lana because she's unbelievably pretty. And you're a little attracted to Chloe because she's not from Smallville and works very hard to remind people of that. Then there's me. I'm older, exotic, unfamiliar. I think you would have been attracted to me had we not been ...."

"Soul mates," Clark interrupted.

Lex felt his ears warm, but he just nodded, trying not to let his embarrassment show. He'd always felt the term was reserved for giggly girls or hopeless romantics. But that's what he and Clark were. Soul mates.

"Right." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, you seem to be attracted to older men who aren't from around here. Me. Tyler. Seth Green."

Clark's face turned bright red. "You are never going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope." He tucked the hay into one of Clark's curls. "In fact, I'm trying to track down an autographed picture of him for you for Christmas." He smirked. "The point is the question about whether you can be attracted to people isn't supposed to be stress-inducing because, really, what does it matter? We know you're an alien, we think you mate for life. Who cares if you can be attracted to other people?"

"I thought you did."

"Not this much. Not enough to make you crazy." He sighed and caressed Clark's face. "I wanted you to go to Homecoming not because I was hoping you might find yourself attracted to Theresa, but because I wanted you to go out and have fun with people your age." Lex reached up and traced his knuckles over Clark's cheekbone. "You have so much stress in your life--keeping your secret, your parents' financial state, our relationship, mutants, meteor rocks. The list goes on. Everything weighs on you heavily, and I can see it. I want you to go out and have fun. Cut loose and enjoy yourself. Did you?"

Clark nodded, licking his lower lip as he did. "Yeah. It was a lot of fun."

"Tell me about it."

He shrugged and settled back into the hay next to Lex. Turning onto his side, he hooked his leg around Lex's body, one arm slung across his chest. "Well, I went to the football game with Theresa and Chloe. After it was done, Chloe hooked up with her date, and we went out and got some food. Then went to the dance. It was really nice inside, all balloons and streamers."

"What about the band?" He picked up another piece of hay and stroked Clark's neck with it.

He sighed and closed his eyes. "There was a deejay."

"How was Theresa?"

"Nice. Very pretty. And she's funny. Smart, too. We talked about a lot of different things."

"Like ..." The hay slid underneath the collar of his shirt, and then up over his Adam's apple.

Clark stretched, practically purring. "I don't know. Books. School. Movies. Normal stuff." He licked his lips. "We danced a lot. Together, I mean, although both of use danced with other people. After the dance, she and I went to the park and walked around for a little."

Lex raised his eyebrows. That sounded dangerous. Not that he didn't trust Clark, but, at the same time, he didn't like Clark walking around parks at night with pretty girls. "Did anything happen?"

Blue eyes opened and gazed into his hesitantly. "She kissed me."

He swallowed and waited until he was sure he could respond without sounding jealous. He tossed the hay away and rolled onto his side, sliding his hand underneath Clark's shirt to rest on the small of his back. "Kissed you. How?"

Clark's lips curled a little as if he were amused, although he looked a little guilty. "It was nothing. It was like this." He pressed his lips into Lex's.

Lex closed his eyes and kissed him back. Clark's lips were warm and soft, but very chaste. He demanded nothing, asked nothing, and gave only sweetness and innocence.

He sighed and allowed himself to be rolled onto his back.

"What then?" he asked, a little breathless, when Clark pulled back.

"I took her home." Clark kissed him again, his mouth open this time, still soft. This time, thought, the tip of his tongue eased out of his mouth, brushing lightly over the scar on the top of Lex's lip, then his teeth, then, almost hesitantly, against his own tongue before pulling back to tease his lower lip.

Shivers ran through Lex, raising goose bumps on his skin. Clark was being so gentle with him, kissing him slowly, tongue softly exploring his mouth. It was extremely erotic; Lex could stay all day doing this. "If you'd kissed her like this," Lex whispered when they broke apart, "she never would have left."

"Then it's a good thing I didn't," Clark breathed. He pressed his lips lightly against each of Lex's eyes.

"Are you going to go out with her again?" He slid one hand underneath the waist of Clark's jeans, working it so it was underneath the elastic of his boxers as well. The other hand caressed Clark's broad, sun-warmed back.

"Dunno." Clark rucked Lex's shirt up and began peppering his chest with kisses. "Probably not. I told her I just wanted to be friends."

"Oh God!" Lex groaned, arching off the hay. Clark's lips closed around his nipple, and he sucked hard. Heat streaked down his chest to his groin, making him hard and hot.

"You taste so good," Clark whispered, licking across Lex's chest. "Always. I could spend days kissing and licking you all over and still not be satisfied."

Lex moaned at the thought, eyes falling shut. Stomach knotted and cock twitching, Lex fisted Clark's hair, trying to make his thoughts coherent. His skin was on fire, and he felt as if he and Clark both were wearing too many clothes. All he wanted was to strip down and make love to Clark as the sun beat down on them, probably burning Lex beet red, but it would be worth it.

Clark moved down to his stomach. His teeth sank into Lex's skin, and he bit, hard. Lex shouted and shot up, but Clark, laughing, caught him and pushed him back down into the hay.

"I want to you suck you off," he said.

"Okay," Lex gasped.

A smile curved Clark's lips. He sat up and moved so Lex was further into the trailer. Then he began undoing Lex's belt buckle.

"Your parents are gone, right?" Lex asked desperately.

"They'll be gone all day; we have the farm to ourselves," Clark said in a husky voice. He stretched so he could kiss Lex again before moving back down to his slacks.

Lex squeezed his eyes shut, his hand straying up to his wet nipples so he could twist them.

"Oh, God, Lex," Clark sighed as he tugged Lex's pants and boxers down to his knees. "I love it when you play with yourself."

"Really?" He cracked open his eyes and trailed his hand lightly down his chest.

Clark smiled and bent down, lightly licking the head of Lex's cock.

He inhaled sharply, fingers clawing into his stomach. His eyes fell shut again as Clark's mouth closed over him, inching down. Clark's tongue worked the head of his cock, painting it in broad, hard strokes that sent shock waves rippling underneath his skin.

Biting his lip, Lex thrust gently, wanting to be buried deeper in the warm, wet heat. He didn't know if it was because Clark had been working outside, or if was just that Lex had forgotten how hot Clark's mouth could be, but he seemed on fire. The heat around Lex's cock was incredible, and made him bite his lower lip to keep from coming too soon.

As Clark slowly licked down Lex's cock to the base, more heat and pressure began to pool. Clark's chin against his groin sent a ripple through the pool.

"Ah," Lex gasped. He could feel his cock leaking precome, and reached down to encourage Clark to take him inside again.

"Trust me, Lex," Clark whispered as he mouthed Lex's balls. He laved the sack and then took it in his mouth, rolling through them with his tongue.

The heat was getting unbearable; Lex needed release. Suddenly, he gasped. Small tendrils of heat and pleasure ^trickled^ away from the source, dancing along his nerves and making him tremble.

"Are you doing that on purpose?" he asked, his question a moan. Lex reached up and tugged on his nipple as the pleasure concentrated around his groin threatened to make him come too fast.

 _Do you like it?_ Clark responded as he swallowed Lex's cock. His had one hand wrapped around the base of Lex's cock and was massaging gently. It was a strange contrast: the pleasure and heat running through Lex's body, Clark sucking hard at his cock, and the hand that was lightly caressing the engorged flesh beneath it. A myriad of sensations that had Lex grasping at the hay, wanting something harder to hold onto.

 _Lex?_

"Yes," he whimpered. "I like it. I ... Oh fuck." The heat hand changed from liquid-feeling strands to fingers that were massaging him from the inside. They ^raced^ through Lex, tripping every erogenous zone until he was keening, trying to find release because the pleasure was just too much.

He arched off the surface underneath him, hand flying out to his sides. Desperately, he reached out for Clark's head, fingers sinking into the silky strands and holding tight. Once he had the grip, he thrust hard. He was trembling from the pleasure, making soft, crying noises as Clark played his body expertly, caressing, soothing, and drawing to greater and greater pleasure each minute.

And then, quite abruptly, the fingers stopped.

The effect was startling. It was as if Lex had been surrounded by a thousand people, all screaming at the top of their lungs before falling completely silent, except for one person whispering. And that one person was enough to command everyone's attention.

Except, in this case, the whisper was Clark sucking and slurping, and pleasure tightening his stomach and his groin. All his attention was on watching Clark's mouth slide up and down his spit-slicked cock, licking and sucking as his fingers fondled his balls and knuckles pressed periodically against his perineum.

"That's right, Clark," Lex managed in a hoarse whisper. "Suck me. Suck my cock, angel."

Clark's cheeks flared pink and blue eyes lifted to meet his.

Suddenly, Lex remembered the first time Clark had ever given him a blow job. He'd been sick and Clark had wanted to make him feel better. They'd been fooling around and then, suddenly, his shy, innocent farm boy had bent over and sucked Lex's cock into his mouth and looked up at Lex for approval.

Back then, he'd been so nervous and so afraid, and his eyes had been so innocent. Now, though, those eyes weren't innocent, not about sex. He knew what Lex liked, and he knew what he could do to drive him wild.

The fire in Clark's eyes scorched his skin. They begged and demanded and twisted his soul in a million directions.

"What, Clark? You like me telling you to suck me?"

Clark whimpered and deep throated him.

"Fuck," Lex swore. He sat up a little awkwardly. Clark shifted, and then stretched out so he was lying on the trailer, legs dangling over the sides.

He threaded his fingers in Clark's hair, finding a good purchase, and thrust the best he could. The head of his cock hit the back of Clark's throat. "Open for me, Clark. Take me farther."

Clark's throat opened slightly and Lex slid in a little more. He heard Clark gag, the muscles forcing Lex out, putting pressure on the sensitive head and making him whimper.

 _Okay?_ he asked, his mental voice sounding breathless and a little obscene.

 _Yes._

Lex did it again. Clark's teeth scraped over his cock, and Lex screamed, pain so intense, it raced up his spine and made his head hurt. He was about to pull out when Clark sent a wave of warmth ^flowing^ through him; it undulated under his skin, making him feel as if he were about to go up in flame as the pain disappeared.

"Clark," he warned through gritted teeth. Clark was winding his way through Lex's sensory net and, very suddenly, the pleasure built up too big. "I'm going to come. I'm going to ... Clark!" Lex screamed, hips surging off the trailer as Clark ^slammed^ into him. At the same time, he began swallowing around Lex's cock, squeezing it until Lex came, sobbing and shaking.

Clark pulled back so Lex wasn't all the way down his throat. He continued to swallow, his fingers curving around Lex's hips until he gripped Lex's buttocks. Fingers slid inside Lex's cleft, stroking the overly sensitive skin and causing Lex to jerk. The pleasure bordered on pain, and Lex didn't care. He almost welcomed it, relished the idea of being taken before he was really ready to be touched again.

Finally, Clark sucked his way noisily to the tip of Lex's cock. He kissed the tip a few times, tongue lapping up anything he'd missed while Lex made small noises that were half encouragement and half protest.

"Please tell me you're going to fuck me," Lex said lazily, petting Clark's hair.

Clark pulled his way up Lex's body. "We'd have to go to the house for that," he said, kissing Lex's neck. He tugged Lex's shirt back down, but kept one hand underneath, still playing with Lex's nipples. "Don't have any lube."

Lex turned his head to meet Clark's lips in a kiss. "I'm fine with that."

"What about your whole stance against sex in my room because of Dad's rule about no sex here?"

"I'm horny, he's gone, and I'm a bad man, remember?"

Clark squeezed his nipple. "You're not bad."

Lex laughed and kissed him again. "Do you like dirty talk, Clark?"

He blushed. "A little, yeah."

"Now, is this dirty talk like, 'Fuck me with your fat cock, slut?" or dirty like, ' If being a Hyperborean meant we could do this every day, I would have become one long ago,' dirty?"

Clark moaned and thrust his semi-erect cock into Lex's hip. "Either. God." Teeth bit Lex's neck before Clark asked, "What does Hyperborean mean?"

"Hyperoboreans were a race that used to worship the god Apollo. According to Greek myth, they lived in the land of sunshine and plenty, beyond the north wind." He kissed Clark's sun warmed cheek. "So, if we were Hyperoboreans, we would have everything we need and could make love in the sun all day."

"Sounds like a good life."

Lex shrugged and wondered if he should pull his pants up. He didn't want anything getting burned. "I agree." Without sitting up, he lifted his hips and shifted so he could tug at least his boxers up.

Clark pushed up and moved so he was sprawled across Lex's chest. He caressed Lex's head, eyes closed, face peaceful. "So, should we ... ah, damn." He sat up and cocked his head, brow furrowed and eyes distant.

"Clark?" Lex sat up and put his hand on Clark's arm.

"Chloe's here. She's driving up."

"Do you think if we hide under the hay, she'll go away?"

Clark's grin was lopsided. "It's Chloe, Lex. She'll find us. She's like part bloodhound or something. Besides, she had a hard night. She and Lana made out at the dance."

"Really?" Lex said, perking up. If he was being interrupted, at least he was going to get some gossip out of it.

"Yeah. I walked in on them and Lana left. After she was gone, Chloe started crying. I was with her for about a half an hour before she felt ready to go back."

"Ah." Not as interesting as he'd thought. "She has wonderful timing." He brushed off bits of hay as they walked and made sure his fly was closed.

"As always. But, at least this way, we don't break any rules."

"Clark, rules are made to be broken."

Clark's grin was downright lascivious and made Lex's ears turn warm and stomach clench. "I'm going to hold you to your word on that," he said in a low voice. He caught Lex in a kiss that seemed to turn him inside out before he was released. Then he turned and continued walking to Chloe, who'd just gotten out of her car.

Stomach twisting, heart fluttering, Lex smoothed his shirt down and tried to get a hold of his reactions. God, he hoped Clark meant breaking the rules when Jonathan wasn't home. Honorary part of the Kent family or not, Lex was positive Jonathan wouldn't hesitate to shoot him should he find out they'd desecrated the sanctity of his farm.

But, Lex decided as his eyes fastened on Clark's ass, that was a risk he was willing to take.

________________________________________

Chloe pulled into the Kents' driveway and parked behind Lex's car. She knew that the adult Kents were gone, which meant that Clark and Lex were probably fooling around. Maybe she should go.

She turned off her car and climbed out.

"Chloe?" Clark said, rounding the corner of the barn.

He was shirtless and dirty. Hay was stuck in his hair, dust streaked across his chest and face, but he was walking to her with a look of concern on his face that just about undid her.

"I can go," she said, fighting back tears when she saw Lex. He was in a similar state of disarray with hay stuck to his clothes and sweat glistening on his flushed face.

Clark shook his head. "No, it's fine. What's wrong?"

Ah, fuck. There were the tears. Seriously, she'd been crying all morning, mostly since she'd gotten off the phone with Sydney. "I think last night was a mistake," she said, her voice breaking.

"Oh, Chloe," he sighed. He put his hand on her arm and squeezed her shoulder.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I don't know if it was worth feeling like this," she whispered, moving into him. She needed to be held.

Clark's arms started closing around her, but suddenly, he exclaimed, "Wait! I'm dirty." He caught her before she was able to wrap her arms around him and cling. "Lex, you take her."

"Clark, I ..." Lex started as Clark redirected Chloe.

Not thinking, she allowed herself to be moved and suddenly found herself in Lex's arms. Flushing, Chloe tried to pull back; hugging Clark for support was one thing, but Lex was totally different. And he was all stiff and uncomfortable, so she didn't want to add to that. They flirted on occasion and Chloe considered him to be her friend, but there were limits, and she wasn't about to push them.

Then, to her surprise, Lex put his arms around her. "It's okay, Chloe," he said softly, rubbing her back.

The tension broke in her and Chloe melted into his arms. She rested her cheek against his shirt, feeling the soft fabric rubbing against her skin, and listening to his heart thrum beneath. He smelled like sweat and hay and sex and some sort of fancy cologne, and it made her head swim a little. Although he wasn't as big as Clark, she could feel the strength in his arms, and the well-defined muscles in his chest. The feminist in her railed against the sudden urge to sink into his embrace and never come out, letting him protect her from the world, but she couldn't help it. Everything was falling apart, and she needed to find shelter somewhere.

"Clark," Lex said as he stroked he back. "Why don't we go inside?"

"Yeah, good idea."

Lex released her from the embrace, but kept one arm around her shoulders. "Are you okay?" he asked as he led her to the barn.

She sniffed and nodded, embarrassed. "I'm fine. I'm just having a really rough morning, you know?"

He smiled. "I can see that."

They entered the barn together, although Clark veered into the washroom under the stairs. Chloe and Lex went upstairs. When they got there, Chloe threw herself on the couch and pulled her legs up to her chest. Lex stood there a moment, looking around as if in confusion. After a moment, he seemed to shrug mentally and he sat down next to her.

"Clark told me what happened." He reached for the box of tissues on the floor and handed them to Chloe.

She nodded, taking a tissue and wiping her eyes. "I figured. Oh, God, how could I have been so stupid?"

Lex was silent a moment, studying her out of those laser sharp eyes of his. "She was your first," he said after a moment.

Chloe felt her cheeks heat. "I know. But that's no excuse."

Lex cocked his head. "It's hard to get over your first, Chloe. Even after you think you're over them, some feelings remain. And your breakup with her was very muddled. And confused. I understand why you might have lingering feelings."

"Yeah," Chloe said, watching Clark tug on a tee shirt. "But they don't feel lingering. They feel the same as they did last spring. Like they haven't changed at all."

He frowned, looking thoughtful. "I see."

Clark bounded up the stairs and went to his dresser. He pulled a red tee shirt out of his dresser and pulled it over his head. "What's going on, Chlo'?" he asked, walking to the couch. He sat on the other side of Chloe, so she was in the middle. "Did you have a chance to talk to Sydney?"

"I did." Chloe wiped her eyes with the tissue and tossed it aside. "I mean, I called her. I was going to tell her what happened and apologize and tell her we shouldn't be together anymore. But, when I called her, and heard her voice, I realized that I don't want to break up with her." More tears welled up.

Lex passed her the box.

Clark was frowning as if he didn't understand. "I thought you said you were in love with Lana."

Frustration washed through her. This was the crux to the problem, and she didn't know how to deal with it. Banging her head against something seemed to be a good idea, but since she didn't think Clark would appreciate it, she settled for doing it on the back of the couch. "I am," she groaned, hitting her head against the rough material covering the couch. "I do love her. That's the problem. I love Lana, but ... I don't know if I can be with her."

"Stop it." Clark grabbed her and forced her to sit up. Holding her, he said, "I don't understand. If you love someone, shouldn't you want to be with them?"

"It doesn't always work out like that Clark," Lex said. "It would be nice if it did, but it just doesn't."

"It should. I mean ..."

"Clark, think about it," Lex interrupted. "You know this because you were willing to make that choice. If I hadn't started listening to you the way you needed me to, you were going to call off our separation and make it a permanent break-up. Remember?"

Chloe raised an eyebrow at Clark; he hadn't told her that. She was pretty surprised. He'd wanted so badly to get back together with Lex, that breaking up permanently seemed out of the question.

His eyes were dark, but she could tell he understood. He reached out and took Lex's hand. "Oh. Right." Clark looked at her. "Why don't you want to be with Lana? I mean, I thought you'd cleared up the whole thing with the Nicodemus flower. And you said she was the one that started it last night."

"Lana kissed you? I mean, not the other way around?"

Chloe snorted. "She kissed me. And she gave me a hickey." She pulled down her collar to show Lex.

He looked impressed. "Way to go, Ice Queen."

"Stop calling her that!" Chloe practically shouted. "I mean it. Don't. She's not an ice queen, she isn't frigid, there isn't anything wrong with her. And she's my friend"

Lex blinked, his face going still. His eyes stared at her almost blankly for a long moment, until she squirmed, trying to banish the heat from her cheeks.

Then he nodded very slightly. "Very well. I won't say it again."

Chloe looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I know you don't like her. I know you have a million issues with her, but I love her. Okay? If you don't want to listen to my problems, that's fine, but I need to talk to Clark."

He hesitated a moment, and then put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Continue."

That was probably the best she was going to get. Actually, all considering, it was pretty good. She was pretty sure that if he was angry at her, he wouldn't have touched her, and although he still seemed stiff and formal, she wasn't ready to write the stiffness off as being upset with her. It seemed more like ... like he wasn't sure how to apologize. Or if he should.

She forced herself to smiled softly and say, "Thanks." She touched his leg gently as she did, to let him know she wasn't mad at him. And she wasn't. She understood his issues with Lana had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Clark and his past with Lana. Such as it was. Twelve years of worshiping her only to, quite surprisingly, fall hard for a guy. Chloe could understand how Lex might feel threatened by Lana, even though she would bet her future as a journalist that he had nothing to worry about.

Shaking her head, Chloe sighed. "What was I saying?"

"You were talking about how you don't want to be with Lana," Clark said.

"Right." She bit her lip and thought about it a moment. "It just sounds so stupid, but I've been thinking. All last night I was thinking about our relationship before we had sex, and it just made me feel ... weird."

There was a long silence before Clark finally asked, "Weird? Like ... how?"

"I don't know." She rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache pounding behind it. Crying to much always made her feel sick, which was why she tried to avoid it as much as possible. Usually, she succeeded, but all the rules changed when it came to Lana. "Even before the whole Nicodemus-disaster thing, I wasn't exactly happy. I was ... unhappy." Chloe opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. "No, that's not right. It wasn't that I was unhappy as much as ... dissatisfied. Like there was something missing, something I wasn't getting, and Lana ... I didn't know what."

"Was it sex?" Clark guessed.

She shook her head. "No, it wasn't. I mean, sure, I thought about what it'd be like to sleep with her. And sometimes I wished I was allowed to touch her, or there could be less clothes or something, but it wasn't a major concern. It was a side issue, really, something I figured would come up somewhere down the line of our relationship, and it'd be fine."

Clark lay his head next to hers. "I remember that sometimes you felt she wasn't paying attention to you, because she was so busy with Whitney and the Talon."

"And that's it. Sort of." Chloe bit her lip. "I'm busy. All the time. I mean, I have the paper, and then school, and both take up a lot of time. And Sydney is the same way. She's editor of her school paper, and does a lot of the photography too, since that's what she wants to be. We barely have time to talk to each other on the phone once a week, and since I came back, we've seen each other twice. But I don't feel it the same way. I don't feel her work is taking anything away from me like Lana's did."

Clark pulled his toy truck from his pocket and began running his thumb over the wheels. Chloe really wished she had something like that right now, something fidgety and nervous she could do with her hands, but she didn't. She used to; when she was in junior high, she had a rock that she carried around and rubbed when she got upset. Then, one day, a girl in one of her classes remarked how Chloe always did that when she was nervous, so Chloe got rid of it. If she was going to be a world famous reporter, she couldn't look nervous, ever. She always had to appear calm and collected.

Clark's lips was between his teeth and he was worrying while he considered what she said. After a moment, he said, "Well, maybe you don't feel like that because you're not in love with Sydney. You don't need her time as much."

Insight from Clark really shouldn't surprise Chloe as much as it always did. She hadn’t thought of that possibility, but now that he mentioned it, it seemed possible. "Maybe. But not completely. That's part of it, but Sydney ... she always lets me know she's there for me, you know? I know if I'm in trouble, she'll be there for me to talk to. I never felt that way with Lana. She was always taking care of other people." She sighed. "I always felt second best. Not only to the other people in her life, but to her as well. Because, when we were together, everything always seemed to be about her. We never got around to me."

Lex rose and crossed the room to Clark's desk. He pulled the chair across the room to the sofa and sat down. "Some relationships are like that," he said. "I wonder if her relationship with the quarterback was, only with her as the less important party."

"Whitney is not like that," Clark said heatedly.

Lex raised an eyebrow. "With you he's not. But his relationship with you is different than with Lana. I'm sure he cared about Lana, and he wanted to make her happy, but it was different. He wasn't as invested in making her feel special as he would be to someone he was really attracted to, like you."

Chloe frowned. "What?"

"It's nothing," Clark said, his cheeks flushed.

But Lex shrugged. "Whitney's gay."

"Lex!"

"And he's in love with Clark," he finished.

She could hardly believe her ears. Whitney was ... Whitney. The football jock, the Marine. He was the last guy that Chloe would suspect being gay. "And you didn't tell me?" she said to Clark. That hurt. A lot. Partly because she wanted to know everything, partly because Clark hadn't told her, and partly because she felt guilty for not figuring it out. She should know these things, right? She was a reporter, she was supposed to be observant.

Clark's face was bright red. "He didn't want me to. He didn't want anyone to know."

"Oh," she said softly. "I see." Swallowing, she ran her hand through her hair.

"It's nothing personal. And I don't see what it has anything to do with anything."

"I do." Chloe looked at Lex. "You're saying that had Whitney been really emotionally involved in his relationship with Lana, he would have done more to make her feel like an equal partner. But, since he didn't, Lana probably learned that one person was supposed to monopolize almost all the time, giving her an unbalanced view of how a relationship worked."

"Basically, yes."

She rubbed her eyes. "But she's not doing it on purpose. I mean, I don't think it's something she's doing consciously."

Lex shook his head. "No, she's not. I may not have a high opinion of Lana, but I don't think she'd do anything to deliberately make you feel as if you didn't matter."

"But this doesn't help me know what to do. I mean, we've gotten to the root of the problem, but where do I go from here?"

Clark sighed and rubbed her shoulder. "What feels right?"

"I don't know. I just ... I just don't know."

"Well, look at it this way," Lex said. "You're in a relationship that works for you. No, you don't love her, but I'm assuming there's the possibility of it?"

Chloe nodded.

"So it's not as if you're just casually dating Sydney with no care of anything happening in the future. The possibility is there. You're happy with her, you make her happy, and you seem pretty content with the distance thing, at least right now."

Chloe sat silent a moment after he finished, waiting to see if he was going to go on. When it became obvious he wasn't, she sighed. "So you think I should stay with Sydney."

He shrugged. "What I think doesn't matter, not really. I was just listing out the pros of your relationship with her. You come up with the cons."

"Well, the distance thing can be an issue," she admitted. "I mean, Lana is here. And Sydney is older than I am. In two years, she'll be in college, and I'll still be stuck in Smallville."

"What about Lana?" Clark asked.

"I love her. She's here. She's ... Lana. And I just don't think ... I don't think she's aware of the way she acts, you know? I think that she just, like, accidentally makes things all about her. It's not that she doesn't care about me."

"Then maybe she doesn't really understand what makes a working relationship," Lex said. "That's why she does what she does. And that's fine; it's something people have to learn. But that doesn't mean, Chloe, that you have to be the one to teach her."

Chloe frowned and tugged at the ends of her hair. It sounded reasonable, sort of. She didn't have to be in a relationship where she wasn't happy, and she knew it. But it felt ... weird, leaving Lana over something like this.

"I love her," Chloe said softly, trying to figure out where that fit in.

"Yes, you love her, but that doesn't mean that you and she are good together. Or that now is a good time for you two to be together. I'm not saying it won't ever work, or that it might not work now, but you have to ask yourself if that is what you really want to do right now."

Chloe rubbed her head. "I don't know. I don't. But I do know it's not fair if I'm with one woman and in love with another."

"Then why don't you tell Lana all of this?" Clark asked, sounding frustrated.

That stopped her thoughts. She turned to him, frowning. "What?"

He rolled his eyes, fist clenched around the toy truck. "You love Lana, and I think that, ultimately, you would like to be with her. I understand why you're hesitant, but she won't. Unless you tell her what you've told us. About how she makes you feel."

Chloe shifted slightly. "I don't know, Clark. That seems ..." She trailed off, unsure of the word she was looking for.

"Look," he said. "Being in love isn't always easy. It's not always about being happy and holding hands. Sometimes it's hard, and the person you with acts like a jerk, or you act like a jerk, and being together is a struggle. So you have to talk. If Lana makes you feel like you don't matter, tell her how you feel. Otherwise, she can never change or get better. Lana can't read your mind, and even if she could, sometimes the reception isn't all that good."

Huh. That was pretty good advice. And judging by the way Lex took Clark's hand and kissed it, a tender light in his eyes, it seemed as if it were advice from someone who knew what he was talking about. Someone who'd lived through it and had come out with a stronger relationship.

Lana would want to know she was hurting Chloe. And, even if she didn't, and even if they didn't get back together, it would be good for her to hear. It would help her in the future and all. Help her be a better person.

She nodded and smiled. "You're right, Clark. I do need to talk to her, and explain things. And I'll see how things go from there."

"I hope things work out for you," Clark said. "Either way."

"Thanks Clark," Chloe replied. She took his hand and squeezed it. "Me, too."

________________________________________

"Hey," Lana said, her entire face brightening when she opened the door to the Talon.

Chloe smiled wanly. "Hey, Lana. I know the Talon's closed, but can I come in?"

"Of course. I was just finishing up." She stepped back to let Chloe in. "Lex just left, so we have the place to ourselves," she said as she walked to the counter.

"Yeah, I saw him drive away." She followed Lana. "I'm sorry about not coming over on Sunday. I was caught up with homework and stuff," she said, sitting down on one of the stools.

Lana shrugged and sat down next to Chloe. "It's okay. I mean, I was kind of hoping we could spend some time together, but I understand." Her cheeks were slightly pink, and eyes shining.

Chloe felt sick. "Lana," she said, taking a deep breath.

And then, suddenly, Lana slid off her stool and was leaning into Chloe. "Hey," she said softly. She lifted her face and kissed Chloe gently.

For a moment, Chloe kissed her back and then pulled way. "Lana, we need to talk."

It was as if there were a power outage or something. Lana's face went dark so fast. She swallowed hard and pulled away, climbing back onto her stool. "You didn't break up with Sydney," she said flatly.

"No."

Lana inhaled sharply and looked at the ceiling. "Why not? I mean, I thought we ... I thought that you liked me."

"I do. I love you."

"Oh, yeah, you love me so much you won't leave your girlfriend for me."

Chloe frowned. "It's not like that. Not really. There are just ... issues."

"What issues? I mean, it seems easy to me. I understand you not wanting to hurt Sydney, but you love me, not her. It's not fair to her, is it?"

"Well ... no. Sort of. I ... Lana, it isn't as simple as that," she said, getting angry for some reason. "Not everything is black and white, and you don't always get your way." As she said it, she knew she probably shouldn't have, but this was hard for Chloe and she couldn't help feeling a little resentful at Lana for making her do this.

Lana blinked. "What?"

"Lana ... I love you. I just don't know if I want to be with you. I mean, you're a really nice person and all, and sometimes when we're together, everything is great, but ... well ...."

"Well what? Come on, Chloe, I want to hear the but."

"It's just sometimes you're so focused on yourself that you totally ignore me."

Lana's mouth dropped open. "What?" she exclaimed.

Chloe exhaled hard. "You're really nice. But a lot of the time, you just seem to be interested in yourself and not in me."

Lana jumped to her feet, her face flushed and angry. "So you're saying I'm self-centered."

"Not ... exactly."

"But basically."

"I ... yeah, I guess basically I'm saying you can be self-centered."

"Wow." She looked away, looking completely pissed.

This was going all wrong. She hadn't meant to sound as if she were accusing Lana of anything. She'd thought they'd be able to sit down and talk about it rationally, and now Chloe was wrecking it.

She exhaled slowly and tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. "Lana, I'm not trying to be mean or anything. I'm ..."

"I broke up with Whitney for you," Lana interrupted. "I was in a relationship I was ... well, sort of happy in, but broke up with him so I could be with you. And while I was still trying to decide, I made it clear to both of you that I wanted to be free to date, so that none of us were tied down to anyone while I was trying to figure things out. I assumed that showed I also cared about your and Whitney's feeling, but apparently, I was just being self-centered."

"It's not about that, Lana. I mean ... yes, I appreciate what you did. And it was the right decision, but even while we were just dating, a lot of the time, you weren't there."

"When wasn't I there? When I took you coffee when you were working late? Or helped you with your science homework? Or went on investigations with you, even when I couldn't care less?"

Chloe blinked and winced. "No. I mean, yes, you were there. But there were other times, like when you constantly blew me off to do something with Whitney. Or were distracted because of his father. And when you'd completely ignore me at school because you were thinking about the Talon. Or, worse, all the times we would talk and you made every single conversation all about you." Did that sound right? Chloe didn't even know anymore; she felt as if she were falling and nothing was going to salvage this conversation.

Lana sat down on her stool hard. "What?"

"A lot of the time when we'd get together, we'd always talk about you and your problems and what you are doing. And my stuff somehow got left out. In order to solve my problems, I had to go to Clark, and that's not fair to me. I should be able to get some sympathy from my girlfriend."

"But you don't because your girlfriend is a cold, self-centered, bitch."

"No! I can't because the minute I start talking about my problems, you turn the conversation back to you and I have to end up comforting you again! Christ," Chloe swore. She pushed her bangs off her face. "One time last spring, Dad started to really annoy me. I felt like he was in the way, and being too pushy, and frustrating the hell out of me. It was like we were from different planets. I tried to bring it up with you. I told you what was going on, and you nodded and said, 'Nell does that all the time.' And then we spent the next hour talking about how overprotective Nell was, and how she wanted to run the Talon so you could do stuff at school, and she didn't understand how important it was to you, and on and on."

Lana gave a breathy sort of laugh and looked away. "Okay, so one time I tried to make an analogy, and it got away from me. That doesn't mean ..."

"It wasn't one time, Lana. It's every time. That's the problem. It's all the time. Everything gets turned back to you. I have a bad day? You bitch about Nell. I've got a project? You talk about the Talon. I have a fight with my dad? You talk about your parents. You always make everything about you. And it's not that I don't want to listen to you, but you make me feel like I'm not as important as you are.""

Lana looked speechless. Her mouth was hanging open, cheeks flushed. "I ... I ... I don't know what to say."

"Lana ..."

"You don't want to get back together with me because we don't talk about you enough?"

"No. Yes. It's more than that. It's ... I feel so insignificant when I'm with you. Miserable. Like I'm waiting for you to turn and smile at me, and you so rarely do. You never ask how I'm doing. You never seem to be really interested in what I'm doing. I get that you have the Talon and how busy you are; I understand that. I could listen to you talk about it for hours, but then I want my equal turn."

Lana shook her head. "Look, I'm sorry I'm busy ..."

"It has nothing to do with you being busy!" Chloe interrupted. "Sydney's busy too, and she still finds a million little ways to make me feel like I'm special. If we can't get together, she calls. If she can't call, she e-mails. If she can't do that, the next time we do talk, she asks me what I'm doing, and then listens to me."

"But I love you."

"Then let me know it! Show me, don't just tell me. God, Lana, half the time we were together, I felt like I was pining after some girl who didn't know I was alive. And then we'd spend some time with each other, and for a while, it would be fun. But, soon, I'd start feeling as if I didn't matter to you. I could be anyone, and you'd be fine because all you wanted was someone to sit there, and listen to you talk and complain and to comfort you. I didn't have to be me."

A tear fell from Lana's eye. "It did. It had to be you."

Chloe shrugged and shook her head. "It didn't feel that way to me."

"So what you're saying is I was being selfish?"

"No. Maybe."

"That's what it sounds like. Like all I ever did was take up your precious time. Jesus, Chloe. I broke up with my boyfriend because I wanted to be with you. I ... I trusted you. I was there for you."

Chloe couldn't help it; she laughed. "When? When were you there for me? Because, to be honest Lana, I remember taking every one of your panicked calls at two AM, holding you when you cried, and going to the cemetery in the middle of the night to be introduced as your _best friend_ to you dead parents, but I don't remember you ever listening to me when I had a bad day at school. No, my problems aren't as big or tragic as yours, but they're real to me. And I never felt like I could really go to you for support. I had to go to Clark."

"That is such a lie!" Lana shouted. "I was there for you, and I remember listening to your problems. I remember comforting you when you were upset about Clark, or upset about school, or the Talon or whatever. Maybe I wasn't there all the time, but don't go painting me like some selfish bitch who doesn't care. And if you can't remember any of those times, if you're so convinced that I don't care anything about you, maybe you should go to Clark now and tell him what a bitch I am."

"I did! Not that you're a bitch, because I don't feel that way, but I told him how much I love you, but how I don't feel like you listen to me. And he told me that maybe I should tell you that so you would know. He seemed to think you'd be interested in hearing."

"Oh, I'm so glad you can tell our problems to everyone in the world. I think that's great." Lana rose, grabbing a rag off the counter. "Get out. And tell Clark that he's a stupid jerk and I never should have forgiven him for what he did to me."

Tears welled in Chloe's eyes, but she tried to force them back. This wasn't going the way he'd wanted it to at all. She knew that Lana would be stung, but she'd really thought that Lana might listen to what she was staying. Chloe had been hoping ...

But that didn't matter. Because Lana wasn't going to change, and wasn't even going to listen to Chloe.

"Lana, I'm sorry. I ..."

"No, you're not."

Chloe sighed and shook her head. "Yes, Lana. I am. I was really hoping we might work this out, but I guess ... I guess I was wrong."

She left quickly. Tears were pressing against her eyelids, but she couldn't let them loose. She wasn't going to cry over this anymore. It was just too hard.

________________________________________

 _"Dear Clark,_

 _  
_Do you ever just look at the stars? No, scratch that. Of course you do. I've seen your telescope and I'm sure that, quite often you did use it to look at the stars, and not just at the house conveniently situated a mile away through open field._   
_

_What do you think when you look at them? How do you feel? Are you excited, awed, frightened? Are you suitably impressed by God's grand design, and do you feel little and insignificant in His eyes and in the face of His creations?_

 _Do you ever pray?_

 _I’ve stopped. Funny. I never stopped praying, not when my father got sick and died, not when I found out what_ he _did to you, not when I found out you didn't love me back. I always still had God and prayed and things were better. I looked up at the sky, looked at the stars, and I felt safe. Like there was a future for me somewhere, a plan, and I was on the right path._

 _I'm tired, Clark. Really tired. When I look at the stars, I don't see any of that anymore. I feel empty. I try to pretend, to act like the fire is still in me, but I can feel how dead I am inside._

 _Send me hope. Please, Clark. Anything. Give me a clue that somewhere there's still happiness and light. Tell me that you're happy. Tell me Lana's happy. Send stories about all the little things you do that seem so trivial, but aren't because in years down the line, they'll be what you look back on and remember with a smile. Hell, tell me you and Lex are back together, and you're happy, and you sing in the shower, or you're in the school play, that you went to a dance. Tell me that when you wake up, you feel secure in your place in the world. I just need to be reminded of why I came out here, and what I left behind. What I'm coming back to. You know, to honor my friends, family, homeland, and all that._

 _I'm sorry to write this to you, but you're the only one I can. Mom needs me to be strong, the guys have stopped writing to me, and Lana ... Lana still needs me to be a hero._

 _You are a hero. And I need you._

 _Always,_

 _Whitney_

Clark finished the letter and set it down. He felt shell-shocked. And numb.

"I'm tired, Clark."

What did Whitney want from him? Clark couldn't help him. Some days it was all he could do to write a letter that wasn't full of his own fears that Whitney was going to get blown up and Clark would never see him again. And now Whitney wanted him to be a hero? To send him hope?

"Oh, God, Whitney. I can't do that," Clark sighed. He lay back on his bed and covered his eyes.

The phone rang.

"Lex?"

"No, Clark, it's me," Chloe said slowly. She sounded as if she'd been crying.

Clark sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe it was better Lex hadn't called; he tried to be supportive of the whole Whitney thing, but it bothered him. "Oh, hey Chloe. What's up?"

"I just wanted to thank you for your advice on talking to Lana. It was so helpful."

He hesitated; she really didn't sound happy, and Clark wasn't exactly in the mood to deal with it. But, she was going through rough times too, and she was his friend, so he couldn't brush her off. "I take it that it didn't go well?"

"Couldn't have gone worse. But, hey, at least it clears up the whole girlfriend question problem." She laughed bitterly. "God, she got so angry at me."

"Why?"

"Because I said everything all wrong." She sniffed loudly. "Ah, man, everything is such a mess."

"I'm sorry, Chloe. I thought it would help, really. I mean, it worked with Lex."

"Yeah, well. That's Lex. He'd cut off his hand to be with you." She sighed. "God. Fuck. I can't believe this. I really thought ... I don't know what I thought." She sighed again. "I am so glad I'm going to see Sydney this weekend. I really need to get away from Lanaville."

"You're going out to Metropolis?" Actually, that was probably for the best. Even if Chloe had been thinking of breaking up with Sydney, it was good that she wanted to see her again. And now that Chloe wasn't going to get back together with Lana, it would remind her of all the reasons she'd wanted to stay with Sydney in the first place.

"Yeah. She called yesterday to say that the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Trans resource center she volunteers for is having a fundraiser at this club they hold a lot of events at. She wants to go to that."

"Sounds like fun. Is it an under-18 club or something?"

"Twenty-one and under, yeah. I went a couple times over the summer with her. It's pretty cool; it's both straight and gay, so the center promotes it a lot. And it's just a lot of fun."

"It sounds like it. You'll have a good time."

"Yeah, I guess. I just ... you know, with everything that's going on, I kind of wish I had a buffer. Or something."

He frowned. "A buffer?"

"Yeah, like someone I can pay attention to that isn't Sydney so she doesn't notice that I'm acting weird." There was a slight hesitation, and then she asked, "Do you want to come with us? You and Pete? I could really use the moral support."

"I don't know, Chloe. I mean, I'd think you'd want some time alone with her."

"I know. And I do plan on spending at least a little time with her. But I sort of need, you know. Backup."

Clark bit his lip, holding back a sigh. Why did he have a feeling that this would end up badly? "You're one hundred percent sure?"

"Positive."

"Sure. I'll go. We can ask Pete tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Clark. This means a lot. And you know this means you actually have plans for two weekends in a row that don't involve Lex. You're getting a social life, Kent."

"Don't tell anyone; it'll ruin my image as a geek."

Chloe laughed. "It'll be our secret." She sighed.

"You going to be okay?" Clark asked in a gentle voice.

"Yeah; I'll be fine. Look, I'm going to let you go. See you in school."

"Sleep tight, Chloe." Clark hung up and rolled onto his stomach. Reaching across the bed, he picked up Whitney's letter and read it again. Melancholy settled over him and he closed his eyes.

"Whitney," he whispered. "I don't know what to do."

"Send me hope," Whitney had written. But what did that mean? Did he want Clark to tell him what a great solider he was? Or how proud Clark was of him? Or that Clark had gotten an A on his first history test? Whitney had said anything, but the little things seemed so stupid. You were supposed to write something ... something important when you got a letter like this. Weren't you?

The trouble was, Clark wasn't all that important. There was nothing that he knew that would make Whitney feel better. Was there?

Without opening his eyes, Clark reached up and turned out the light. He didn't know what to do or what to say. Maybe, and with any luck, things would be better in the morning.

________________________________________

"Hey," Theresa said as Clark gathered his books after class the next day.

He looked up and managed a smile. "Hey, Theresa. Sorry I was late today."

"That's fine. I only wanted to get some last second cramming in before the quiz, but I don't think I needed it. The results would have been the same. How do you think you did?"

"Okay, I think. You?"

"I don't know. I thought I knew it, and my mind went blank." She sighed. "Will you help me go over everything before our test next week?"

Clark smiled. "Of course."

Theresa made a face at him. "You know, it's really not fair that you're doing better than me, and you've only been in class a few weeks."

"Yeah, well. It's natural talent."

"Obviously. I'm only glad I managed to hook up with you, or else I'd be floundering." She grinned at him. "Do you want to come over this weekend to study?"

Clark hesitated. "I'm busy this weekend. Are you free Monday evening?"

"Yeah. Why don't you come over to my house after school? We can study for a few hours."

He thought about it a moment; he was supposed to make a delivery to Lex that day, but he could move it to the morning. Other than that and chores, he was clear. "That sounds good." He rubbed his eyes and tried for another smile; it didn't really feel like he made it.

Theresa put her hand on his arm. "Clark, are you okay? You were late to class, and you seemed out of it."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Really. I know I look tired, but I'm okay." He'd been zoned for most of class, so he really wasn't surprised she was asking. It was just impossible to keep his mind on anything right now.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?"

He did, but not with her. In fact, he didn't know who to talk about this to. As supportive as Lex tried to be, Clark knew he hated listening Clark talk about Whitney. Chloe might be okay, but she going through her own things. Pete ... Pete would ask too many questions, and Lana was out of the question.

"No, I'll be okay." They stepped into the hall. "What class do you have now?" he asked.

Theresa brushed her hair off her shoulder and sighed. "U.S. History. So, so boring."

"Really? I've always liked history. It's, I don't know. Interesting."

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't mind history, it's just ... well, world history is interesting. European history. The U.S. is boring. But that's just me, I guess. I ... Hey, Lana."

Lana stepped around Clark, her face serious, eyes dark. "Hi, Theresa. Do mind if I take Clark? I need to talk to him."

Clark frowned at the intensity in Lana's voice, and glanced at Theresa.

She shrugged, obviously uncomfortable by Lana's intense attitude. "Sure. I'll talk to you later, Clark."

"Bye." He watched as she made her way across the hall, and turned to Lana. "What's going on?"

"Let's go to the Torch office," she said, turning on one heel.

Clark followed her, wondering what was going on. She was acting so strangely.

The office was empty when they stepped inside. Lana closed the door behind her, and then turned to face Clark, arms crossed over her chest. "Why did you tell Chloe not to get back together with me?"

He blinked, taken aback. "What? I didn't!"

"That's not what she said to me."

"Chloe told you that I told her not to get back together with you?"

She nodded. "Basically, yes."

"Wait, basically? What did she say exactly?" Clark asked.

"That's not important, Clark, what's important is ..."

"No, I think it is important," he cut her off. "I want to know exactly what I'm being accused of."

Lana rolled her eyes and sighed. "Chloe told me that you gave her some advice and, based on that advice, she wasn't sure if she was ready to get back together with me right now."

Clark frowned. "But I didn't tell her not to get back together with you. I told her to tell you why your guys' relationship wasn't working for her."

"Which basically translates to you told her to tell me some incredibly mean things."

"What?"

"She told me I was self-centered. And that I always made everything about me. And that I didn't listen to her. All these really mean things, and she acted like she had the right to say them." Lana looked at him accusingly.

He shook his head, feeling his muscles clench. "I didn't tell her to say those words. I didn't, like, write a script for her, Lana. She told me that when she was with you, you made her feel like she was second best. And that hurt her, even though she loves you. Sydney, meanwhile, always makes her feel like she's important and loved and that she matters. I didn't make her feel like that, Lana; you did. All I did was tell her that she needed to decide for herself who she wanted to be with. And, yes, I did tell her that she should tell you how she felt."

"Why?" Lana exclaimed. "Why would you ever tell a person any of those things? It's mean, Clark."

"Because you needed to hear them!" Clark exclaimed.

She flinched.

Internally, Clark cursed; he hadn't meant to do that. This was Lana he was talking to; you didn't shout at Lana.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

Lana just nodded.

He sighed. "Look," he said, keeping his voice low and calm. "I'm sure Chloe didn't say those things to hurt you. I didn't suggest she tell you because I thought it would be fun to hurt your feelings or anything. But, Lana, relationships aren't all about kissing and holding hands. It's not all about comforting someone when they're upset. It's about making them feel good every day."

"I try," Lana protested, her voice thick with tears.

"I'm sure you do, but something isn't working. I thought you would want to know that so you could fix it. You can't change the way Chloe reacts, but you can change the way you act. Monitor yourself." He sighed. "Lex and I were having problems, and I felt as if he wasn't listening to me. And, for a while, I didn't do anything except get angrier and angrier at him. Nothing changed. So, finally, I told him how I felt, and he said he hadn't realized what he was doing. Now he's works hard at remembering to listen to me. He's trying to change to make me feel better, and I do the same for him. It's never pleasant hearing your faults listed out, Lana, but it's good to hear every once in a while. In fact, I think it's probably important to hear it if you're in a relationship."

"Do you think I'm self-centered?"

Was there any good way to answer that question? If Clark said yes, Lana would be hurt. If he said no, Chloe would look like she was being a bitch. And while Clark did know that Lana could turn any conversation around to herself, he also knew that she always had the best intentions in mind when she did. In her own way, she thought she was helping the situation.

God, he hated being put in this situation.

"Clark?" Lana's eyes had filled with tears, her lower lip trembling.

He exhaled hard. "It's not my opinion that matters, Lana," he finally said. "Not really. If you want to be with Chloe, you need to figure out how to make her feel like she matters. And I really don't think that she's asking all that much."

"But I'm so busy with school and work and everything."

"She's busy too," he pointed out. "And so is Sydney. Yet, somehow, they make it work."

"How?"

He shrugged as the bell rang, signaling the beginning of fourth period. "Don't ask me. Ask her."

Lana nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Yeah, I guess." Then, she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. "Maybe, I will."

"Good." He hesitated and then said, "Well. I guess we should go to class."

"Okay."

They walked to class in silence. Clark was highly uncomfortable. He hated fighting, and even though he knew that he and Lana hadn't exactly fought, it felt like they had. She'd been so angry with him, and he hadn't even done anything wrong. Clark knew he was right. It wasn't like he went to Chloe and started giving her advice; she'd come to him. And while Lex had practically been pushing for Chloe to stay with Sydney, Clark had tried his best to be neutral. Because he knew that's what Chloe really needed, someone to straighten out her head, not twist her arm into doing anything.

God, he hated it when his friends fought. Last spring had been hard enough, and now today. It was like, the moment Clark had any problems of his own, his friends went out and found their own traumas to make him feel even worse.

No. That wasn't fair. Chloe and Lana weren't fighting to hurt him. They didn't even know about Whitney's letter. As far as they were concerned, his life was on the upswing. He was back together with Lex, he had straight A's in school, and things were good. So what if he couldn't quite bring himself to stand straight today, or to smile? Their lives were in chaos.

"Ah, Lana. Clark. Nice of you to join us," Mr. Townsend said as they entered the class.

Clark ducked his head. "Sorry, Mr. Townsend."

"We really are." Lana quickly crossed the room to her seat.

"And your excuse?"

They glanced at each other, and then away quickly.

Mr. Townsend studied them a moment before saying, "This is your first tardy, so I'll let it pass. Don't be late to my class again."

"We won't," Clark promised, eyes on the floor.

"Good. The class is working in groups right now to answer some questions about the poems you read last night. Chloe and Pete will explain what you're supposed to do."

Clark nodded, and followed Lana to where Chloe and Pete were sitting. They'd already pushed their desks together, and had paper and their literature books on the desk.

"What happened?" Chloe asked as they sat down. "You usually aren't late once you're in school."

He hitched a shoulder and dug his literature book and binder from his backpack. "Nothing."

Lana plastered on a smile, even though her eyes were still red and a little wet. "It was nothing. We were just talking."

Chloe frowned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Lana said, tone short. She pulled her book from her backpack and opened it.

"Great. Good. Now that we've established everyone's fine, do you think we could work?" Pete asked.

Clark looked at him. "What's with you?"

"Jill dumped him," Chloe supplied helpfully.

"She did not dump me," he said heatedly. "She just decided that Mark was better than me. I don't know why. It's not like he's smarter than me or anything."

Chloe patted his hand. "It's okay, Pete. You'll meet someone new."

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Besides, this frees me up for this weekend." He brightened a little.

Lana frowned as she pulled paper from her binder. "What's this weekend?"

Clark closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear the answer. No, scratch that; he didn't want to hear Lana's reaction to the answer. Could this day get any worse? Why the heck couldn't Pete have kept his mouth shut?

"What, is it a secret or something?"

Chloe cleared her throat. "Um, no. Not a secret. The, uh, there's this thing in Metropolis and we're all going."

"Thing."

"Yeah. A ... thing."

"Oh," Lana said softly. "Oh, I see. Well, I hope you have fun." Her voice was quavering and she sounded near tears again.

Clark opened his eyes and shot Pete a look. He frowned and shrugged. "Sorry," he mouthed. Then he turned to Chloe and lifted his hands questioningly.

Chloe shook her head. "So," she said. "We have work to do."

"Right." Clark opened his binder for his notes. "What did you think of the poems?" As he tugged out his notes, which were in the pocket part of the binder, Whitney's letter fell out and onto the floor.

Lana bent over to pick it up. "You dropped this, Clark. Oh! I didn't know you were writing to Whitney. Can I read it?"

Face going up in flames, Clark snatched the letter from her. "Um ... I don't think that's a good idea."

She looked taken aback. "Why not? I mean, he's my friend. My ex-boyfriend. I just want to see what the two of you talk about." Lana took the letter, trying to wrest it from Clark's hand.

"Lana, please, it's not that interesting. Guy stuff and ... and jock itch and stuff. It's nothing." He tugged it from her hand and was about to put it away when she snatched it away again.

"I haven't heard from him in almost a month. Just let me ..."

"Lana," Chloe interrupted, sounding alarmed. "Whitney wrote that to Clark. I'm sure what's in there is as personal to them as any of his letters to you are."

"If Sydney were writing to me, wouldn't you want to read it?" Lana shot at her angrily.

"Oh, come on, Lana, that's totally different," Pete said. "It's not like Whitney and Clark are dating. It's just a letter."

"I just want to make sure he's okay. Come on, Clark." She tugged again.

"Lana ..."

Suddenly, the letter was plucked from Lana and Clark's hands. "I've just about had it with this group," Mr. Townsend said, voice even but firm. "The four of you have produced some good work so far this semester, but I am growing tired of your incessant talking. This is your last chance. Either get to work, or you all have detention after school and I assign you to new groups. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Mr. Townsend," they all mumbled.

"Good." He turned and, taking the letter, went back to his desk.

They were all silent a moment, not looking at each other. All four of disliked getting in trouble, and it was a trait they had all always shared. It was one of the reason that, in the past, they'd always worked so well together; even though they did like to talk, they all worked hard to get their assignments done.

Finally, Chloe cleared her throat. "Okay, so, e.e. cummings. Didn't like capital letters."

Lana sat up straighter and flipped her hair. "No, he didn't." She opened her book and leaned in.

While the rest of his group got to work, Clark watched Mr. Townsend. After yelling at his group, the teacher circulated a few minutes, stopping at each group and talking. He kept the letter in his hand and occasionally tapped it against his thigh. Clark wondered if he was going to throw it away, or give it back before the class ended.

He shouldn't have brought it to school. He'd known that. It was too personal and too painful. Which, ironically, was why he had to bring it. Ever since he'd first read it, he'd kept the letter near him, afraid if he didn't ... something would happen. He wasn't sure what, but something bad.

Mr. Townsend ended his rounds. He glanced at Clark's group briefly, then went to his desk. His trash can was next to the desk, and he stood over it, lowering the letter even as he opened it.

Clark held his breath, not sure what he was afraid would happen.

His teacher made a quick motion, as if he had started to toss the letter and changed his mind. He frowned and moved the letter up, closer to his eyes. Mr. Townsend scanned the letter quickly, and then sighed. Setting it on his desk, he crossed the room to Clark.

"Stay after class, Clark," he said softly, putting his hand on his shoulder.

Too afraid to speak, Clark just nodded, eyes fastened on his books.

"What's going on?" Chloe asked after he'd left.

"Nothing. I think he thought Lana and I were passing notes; he's going to let me take the letter back after class," Clark said.

Lana sniffed. "Are you going to let me read it?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It's private."

"Friends shouldn't keep secrets from each other."

Clark shrugged and copied the notes Pete had taken while Clark had been zoned. "Yeah, well. I'm sorry," Clark replied, a heavy sadness settling in his stomach.

He didn't like keeping secrets, but it was a necessary part of his life. Besides, he disliked being questioned even more. What he and Whitney had was private. Special. It was a strange relationship, and one he didn't quite know how to classify. It wasn't something he could explain to Lana and, even if he did, she wouldn't understand.

Clark didn't understand. He just knew that he wasn't wrong for keeping it to himself. It was something that was private. He just hoped he didn't lose Lana's friendship over it.

They worked steadily and a little awkwardly until the end of the class period. Mr. Townsend announced that they would be presenting their work tomorrow during class before dismissing them.

"So," Chloe said as she gathered her things. "We'll be in the Torch office, okay Clark?"

He nodded.

"Do you want us to get you anything?"

"Maybe a soda?"

"No problem, man." Pete clapped Clark on the back. "Good luck."

Clark managed a smile. "Thanks," he said with all the levity of someone going to the gallows.

Chloe and Pete smiled at him as the left. For her part, Lana looked at him for a moment, then turned and left.

He sighed. Fine; whatever. If she was going to be mad, there was nothing he could do about it. She wasn't the one whose teacher had read a letter that basically outted both him and the writer.

Taking a deep breath, Clark finished putting his books away and went to Mr. Townsend's desk.

Mr. Townsend was sitting on the edge of his desk, the letter in hand. "Take a seat, Clark," he said.

Clark sat in the desk in front of Mr. Townsend, eyes fastened on his hands.

"How are you doing today? You seem a little down."

Clark hitched a shoulder. "I'm okay."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

He nodded slowly. "I keep an eye out for you, Clark. Not only in my class, but when I see you around on campus. You seemed a little depressed today, especially compared to the last couple weeks. I saw you before first period this morning, and you were dragging. You didn't look like you were paying attention to anything going on around you."

"You watch me?" Clark asked, looking up.

Mr. Townsend nodded. "Not all the time, but yes. I make it a point to watch out for you and see how you are."

"Why?"

"For the same reason that you have a standing appointment every two weeks with the school counselor," he replied evenly. "You ran away last year and, after you did, your teachers suddenly came forward with concerns about you withdrawing from class and seeming depressed. So you were flagged. At the beginning of this year, the teachers meet to discuss any students who might have problems or be problem. And, no, you weren't tagged as a problem, but we are supposed to look out for students who exhibit warning signs of dropout, suicide, depression, and so forth. However, teachers are busy dealing with so many things, quiet students such as yourself tend to fall through the cracks. In fact, if you weren't so extraordinarily gifted, I probably wouldn't have made any extra effort to watch you. But, since you are, and since I don't want to lose you, I've made myself remember."

He wished the floor would open up and swallow him. The constant reminders that he'd run away ate at him; it was bad enough he had to go and talk to Mr. Font every couple weeks, all the while lying about his life and what was going on. But now his teacher was watching him too.

"Clark, I'm not trying to embarrass you."

"I know," he said stiffly, not looking up.

"I just want to make sure you're okay."

Clark sighed. "I'm fine. Yeah, I guess I'm down today, but I ..." He shook his head and glanced at the letter in Mr. Townsend's hand.

Mr. Townsend raised it and nodded. "This is why you're depressed?"

"Yeah. I mean I'm having some problems with my friends, so I guess that's on my mind too." He shifted in his seat, itching to take the letter back.

"Problems with friends can be very stressful. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Not really. I mean I'm sure that everything will work out."

"I'm sure it will." He gave Clark the letter. "I apologize for reading it; I know it was private and I had no right, but I couldn't help myself. I was checking to make sure it wasn't school work or something you needed, and after I read the first lines ... I had to finish." He inclined his head. "It's very affecting."

Clark just shrugged and folded the letter into squares. He then placed it in his pocket.

"Whitney Fordman wrote it, right?"

"Yeah."

Mr. Townsend nodded. "I didn't know him that well. He wasn't in my class last year since I only taught AP literature for seniors. I knew him by reputation, and discussion in the teacher's lounge, of course. He had a very hard year."

"Yeah. And it's not ... it's not getting any better, either."

"No. But the fact he's written to you tells me that he hasn't lost all hope yet. When someone is so depressed that he truly believe there is nothing worth living for anymore, he stops reaching out. Whitney knows there is a lot in life worth living for; he just can't see it where he is. So he's turning to you."

Clark pulled his toy truck from his pocket and began running it over his leg. "I wish he hadn't," he finally said, very softly.

Mr. Townsend moved to sit in the desk next to Clark. "Why?"

He shrugged, refusing to look at his teacher. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what he wants."

"No?"

"No, I don't." Clark bit his lip.

Mr. Townsend was silent, eyes on Clark, waiting for him to go on.

Feeling his face heat, Clark began rolling his toy truck on the desk. He kept his eyes on it refusing to look at his teacher. With any luck, Mr. Townsend would give up and start talking again, like teachers normally did.

He didn't. The silence dragged out until finally, Clark squirmed in his chair and said, "He says he wants me to be his hero, but I don't know how. I'm not brilliant. My writing isn't profound. What am I supposed to say to make everything better for him?"

"Nothing. There is nothing you can say that will make everything better for him. So you don't stress yourself by trying. What you need to do is give him what he asked for: a little bit of home."

Clark looked up. "How?"

He shrugged. "I can't tell you what exactly it is you need to write. He's your friend, not mine. But my advice is for you to write a light-hearted letter in which you tell him the good things that are going on. You were really happy the last few weeks; capture that happiness and put it down on paper. Describe what's going on in school or at your home. Talk about what the two of you will do when he comes home." He smiled. "You know, if you focus on happier things while writing, you might start feeling better."

He thought about it a moment, and then nodded slowly. "Okay. I can try that." He smiled faintly. "Thanks."

"My pleasure." He smiled, but seemed to hesitated, as if he wanted to say more.

Clark felt heat rise to his cheeks. He was positive Mr. Townsend was going to say something about Whitney writing that he loved Clark, or the comment about Lex. He didn't know much about his teacher except that he'd moved to Smallville from California last year to take care of his father. What if he didn't like gay people? Or what if he thought that Lex was doing something wrong because he was older than Clark? What if...

"Do you mind if I wrote to him?" Mr. Townsend finally asked.

Clark blinked. "Huh?"

Mr. Townsend smiled slightly. "He sounds lonely. I just thought he'd like to have someone else to communicate with."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Go ahead. Here." Clark pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down the information Mr. Townsend would need. "I'm sure he'd like to hear from someone new. My stuff is probably getting boring." He smiled slightly.

He folded the paper and slipped it into his breast pocket. "I'm sure that's not true. And thank you, Clark." Once again, he opened his mouth as if to speak and hesitated.

"Uh, can go?" Clark decided to ask.

"In a minute." He took a deep breath and looked at Clark steadily. "Clark, I don't know you all that well. And I try very hard not to speculate about my student's private lives since, for the most part, they don't concern me. However, if what was written in the letter means what I think it does, you have a lot to deal with. I just want to make sure that you're okay, and comfortable with yourself and with Whitney's feelings, and that you have someone to talk to."

His face was so hot, Clark was afraid his eyes were going to start glowing red. In fact, he had to close them briefly, afraid that he might slip up and lose control over his heat vision. The burn faded minutely, and Clark cleared his throat. "I, uh ... I do. I am. I ... my parents know about ... me." Oh, fuck he just came out willingly to his teacher. What the hell was wrong with him?

He opened his eyes again.

Mr. Townsend was nodding encouragingly. "So you're open with your parents?"

He nodded.

"And are they supportive?"

"Yeah. They bought ... books," he said a trifle lamely.

Mr. Townsend smiled. "I'm glad. You're lucky, Clark. But, please remember, if you ever do need to speak to someone, and don't feel like you can go to your parents, you can come to me. And if not to me," he rose and went to his desk, "I have some pamphlets for the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender Resource Center in Metropolis. They have a crisis hotline and peer counseling."

"Yeah, I know. I already have their number. A friend of mine's girlfriend volunteers there," Clark said.

Mr. Townsend closed his desk drawer. "You seem that you're very well connected." He smiled. "I just want you to know, Clark, I do mean everything I've said today. You are a bright student and have a promising future; I just want to make sure you get there."

Clark flushed and fought back a smile; his teachers never really told him things like this. They sometimes wrote remarks about the level of his work on his paper, but not much and not usually out loud. This was ... kind of neat. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Have a good lunch, Clark."

"Bye." Clark rose and shouldered his backpack. As he left the room, he felt light and cautiously happy. He was still worried about Whitney, and afraid that anything he said might be inadequate, but at least now he sort of knew where to start.

________________________________________

Lana opened the front door to her house and tossed her backpack on a chair. Digging through it, she pulled out her wallet, and was heading for the kitchen when she saw Nell standing on the stairs.

"Hey, Nell, I didn't see you there," Lana said, forcing a smile. After the fight today with Clark--her fault, she knew; she shouldn't have accused him like that and, really, Whitney's letter to him maybe wasn't her business--she was still a little scattered.

Nell smiled tightly. "I'm glad you're home, Lana. We need to talk." Her voice sounded stern and a little unhappy.

"Um, I have a shift at the Talon in a half an hour. Can it wait?"

"No. They can cover for you until you show up. Come." She walked into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Heart pounding, Lana went to her and sat next to her. "What's this about?"

"It's about Dean and the way you're behaving around him. Lana, look at me."

Lana swallowed, looking down at her clenched fists.

"Lana."

She raised her head and looked at Nell.

Nell was looking at her through narrowed eyes. "Like it or not, Lana, I am marrying Dean. That means he is going to be your stepfather, and you need to learn how to get along with him."

"I'm trying," she started, but Nell cut her off.

"That's not what he said. He told me about last Sunday, and how when he tried to have a conversation with you, you just brushed him off."

"I was going riding."

"Couldn't you at least have sat down and talked with him first?"

Lana took a deep breath. Maybe she should come clean. She'd hid her fears about Dean because she knew Nell really liked him, but he made Lana feel so ... icky. And to be yelled at while being made to feel that way was insulting. "He makes me uncomfortable," she quickly, eyes closed. "He's always watching me, and getting too close. And one time he tried to give me a bracelet, and when I said no, he kept pushing it on me." She opened her eyes. "I want to like Dean, Nell, but he's ... creepy. He makes me feel ... uncomfortable." She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself.

Nell was looking at her as if she were crazy. "What on earth do you mean?"

She licked her lips. "Lex Luthor saw him. One day in the Talon, Dean just wouldn't leave me alone, and Lex ... Lex thought that he was ... he was sexually harassing me. And that's kind of what it felt like."

Her aunt stared at her a moment before bursting into laughter.

Tears rose to Lana's eyes and she jumped it. "I'm not lying and ... and I don't think this is funny."

Nell waved her hand and kept laughing.

"Stop laughing! Even if I'm wrong, you're just being mean."

"And you're being stupid," Nell said. "You are going to mess this up for me--and for you--because you have some screwed up notion that Dean's a child molester?"

Lana looked at Nell in disbelief. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a child. But I am younger than you, and sometimes men ..."

"Yes," Nell interrupted. "Sometimes older men want to have pretty girls like you. But not Dean." She smiled softly and took Lana's hand. "Sit down, honey. I'm sorry I laughed."

Warily, she sat, still stung by what had happened.

Nell smiled again and stroked Lana's hair. "There is a lot you don't know about Dean. I do. I know he's interested in you, Lana, and I've encouraged it."

"You've what?"

"It's not sexual, baby. He's not a pervert. He's a father who has lost his child, and wants another one."

Lana frowned. "What?"

Nell shifted and moved closer to Lana. "Dean used to be married, and he and his wife had a little girl named Brittany. And, like a good father, Dean doted on Brittany, and spoiled her, and did everything he could to secure a good future for her. Unfortunately, she was killed in a car accident when she was twelve. Soon after, he and his wife got divorced. Without Brittany, they just couldn't make their relationship work. But he never gave up hope of having another family. When we met, he and I were very attracted to each other, but I don't know if it would have moved this fast if I hadn't had a daughter in need of a father."

"I have a father," Lana said. "I don't need another one."

"Lana, your father is dead. And he's not coming back. I know you love him, and cherish him memory. I don't want to take that away from you, and I won't. It's just ... Dean needs a daughter."

"Then have a baby with him. I don't want to be his daughter."

"I can't have a baby, Lana," Nell said, her voice harsh. "And Dean has a bank account with enough money to get you into a good college. He wants you to have it and you will. All you need to do is be polite to him."

Lana frowned, mind trying to comprehend everything at once. Nell couldn't have a baby? Dean had a bank account? "You're not ... marrying him because of me, are you?"

Nell laughed again. "Lana, honey. I love you to pieces. I think the world of you. But I wouldn't get married if there weren't something in it for me. And, believe me, there is." She stroked Lana's hair again. "The fact that he's willing to take care of you, too, is just icing on the cake."

"So ... you're happy?"

"Of course. And you don't need to worry about him trying to climb into your bed at night."

Lana flushed. "I just ... I'll try to be nicer, but I don't want to be the replacement daughter."

"Of course not." Nell patted the back of her hand. "All I want is for you to try and be friends."

"I can do that." She smiled tenuously. "I'm sorry."

Nell smiled back and shook her head. "All is forgiven. I can understand why you were upset. I just wish you had come to me sooner so we could have straightened it out."

Lana nodded. "Me too." She hesitated a moment, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Was she allowed to ask about the baby thing? Looking up at Nell, Lana decided she had to know. "Why can't you have a baby? I mean, I've never heard you say that before."

"It's never come up before, has it? I mean, it's never been an issue. Funny. I've thought about telling you, and I just never got around to it." Nell sighed and shook her head. "I ... just can't. It hasn't mattered because I have you, but at one time, I thought about artificially inseminating myself. When I went to the doctor, they told me that my uterus wouldn't sustain life. I don't mind, though. I have you." She leaned forward and kissed Lana's forehead.

"Yeah," Lana said, trying to fight back her tears. She scooted closer to Nell and wrapped her arms around her, heart aching with sadness. "You have me."

________________________________________

"Hey," Clark said when he walked into his room. "What are you doing here?"

Lex was sitting on the floor, his shoes off, papers spread over the throw rug, laptop powered up. There was an empty glass next to the laptop, and a plate of crumbs at his side.

When Clark sat next to him, Lex looked up from his laptop and smiled. "I got a call from Chloe a few hours ago. She told me I might want to avoid Lana today."

Clark kissed him gently, and then moved so he was sitting behind Lex. Wrapping his arms around Lex's waist, Clark tugged him back and leaned against the couch. "She's probably right. I kind of got the full blast of her anger today before class. She wanted to know why I told Chloe not to get back together with her. The funny thing is, you're the one that said that." He playfully nipped Lex's ear.

"Did not." He rested his head on Clark's shoulder. "I was totally objective. The only thing I did was point out the benefits of being with Sydney instead of Lana. I didn't try to force her to stay with Sydney."

"I guess." Clark sighed and rested his cheek on Lex's head. "You staying for dinner?"

"Yeah. I figured I'd let Dad eat alone today. Well. Not totally alone. His new assistant, Tad, started today."

"New assistant? Didn't he, like, just get a new one? Claire or something?"

Lex nodded. "He fired her. After an hour. Which was forty-five minutes longer than the assistant after her, whose name is escaping me right now. And Dad's practically all but offered to buy Damien outright from me."

"Damien's not a slave."

"Slave, assistant. It's all the same to Dad." Lex yawned and closed his eyes. "Not that he would work for Dad at any price. Still, I'm glad that Damien's not at home right now. Dad might try to sacrifice Tad to tempt Damien into working for him."

Clark laughed. "Now we're making sacrifices to Damien?"

"I do. I gave him Dominic, didn't I?"

"But you didn't kill him."

Lex smiled wickedly. "I don't think Damien would have found him as useful dead."

"You're mean."

He didn't reply.

Rolling his eyes, Clark began to unfasten the buttons on Lex's shirts. "Where is Damien? I mean if he's not at home?" He slid one hand inside Lex's shirt.

"At the Talon. Since I can't be there to answer Lana's million questions, I sent him instead. Although, she's getting better; she actually made the drawer come out even every day last week."

"She's taking an accounting class."

"I know," he said through a yawn. "She wants to start doing the bookkeeping, which Nell has been doing. But, for some reason, she can't close out very well, and always comes up short or over. Plus, she has questions on orders and other things," he finished off as another yawn broke though.

"Tired?"

He shrugged and snuggled into Clark's body. "A little. I was up late and then early, then in meetings all day. I hate meetings."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could make it better."

"You are."

Clark pressed his lips into Lex's temples. "I'm glad." He sighed. "You're making my day better, too."

Blue eyes opened and looked up into his. "You okay? You seemed a little depressed on the phone last night, and then today, when I checked you through the bond, it was the same thing."

"I'm okay. Whitney wrote me. He's not doing so well, and I wasn't sure what to do. But I guess I'm doing better now. I don't know." Clark sighed. "One of my teachers, Mr. Townsend, took the letter from me. Well, Lana was trying to take it, and he thought it was a note, so he took it and read it."

"May I read it?"

"Yeah." Clark reached into his pocket and gave Lex the letter.

He settled against Clark again as he read it. When he was done, he quirked his eyebrows and looked back up at Clark. "I can see how this would upset you."

Clark nodded. "I'm just sad for him, you know? He wanted so much when he left, and was so happy. And now ...." He broke off and sighed, closing his eyes.

Lex climbed out of Clark's lap and onto the couch. Pulling Clark's head into his lap, he said, "I'm sure Whitney's just going through a rough patch. It's hard to prepare yourself for the reality of war, no matter how prepared you think you are. And Whitney wasn't really all that prepared."

"No. I don't think he was either."

He raked his fingers through Clark's hair, breaking the tangles gently. "What did your teacher think about the letter?"

"He understood why it depressed me. He said it was affecting." Clark opened his eyes. "He was cool about it. About, you know, Whitney saying that he still prayed when he realized I didn't love him back. And about you and me getting back together. I don't know if Mr. Townsend knew it was talking about you, but he figured out that you were a guy. At least, he did after I sort of outted myself. And he still was cool and asked if I had someone to talk to, and did my parents know, and did I want the number for the center in Metropolis."

"You're lucky he's understanding." When Clark opened his eyes, he saw a crease between Lex's eyes. "Clark, I don't want to speak badly of your teachers, but be careful who you tell. This is a small town, and I'm afraid that you'll get harassed if you come out at school."

"I know. I won't. I haven't even told my counselor, even though I know he's supposed to be someone I can tell. But I'm not ... I'm not interested in being out. You know? Not with anyone I'm not close to. Maybe someday, but not now. Not here."

Lex bent over and kissed him gently. When he sat back up, he said, "Did Mr. Townsend say anything else?"

Clark nodded, and reached up for Lex's hand. Lacing their fingers together, he said, "He kind of straightened me out about what to write to Whitney. I was confused and anxious about it, because I was thinking I had to write something brilliant. He said I should just write about home. Give him that, so he doesn't feel so homesick." He climbed onto the couch next to Lex, and folded his legs around him. "Do you mind hanging around after dinner?" he asked, rubbing his cheek on Lex's scalp. "If I'm going to write happy stuff, I'd like to have you around."

Lex smiled. "I can do that."

"Cool." He kissed Lex again. When he pulled back, he frowned, unsure if he should say more. It wasn't that he really suspected anything of Mr. Townsend; he was, most likely, just a concerned teacher, just as he'd said. The fact that he was watching Clark didn't have to mean anything ominous.

And yet, after the whole thing last year when both Lex and Lionel were having Clark watched or studied for different reasons, he couldn't help feeling ... uncomfortable with the idea that anyone besides Lex had an interest in him. It was one of the reasons he never brought up the fact that Lex had never gotten him a bodyguard; maybe having someone to protect Clark would make Lex sleep easier at night, but it would make Clark uncomfortable and unhappy.

"What is it?" Lex asked, stroking Clark's face with his knuckles.

He exhaled slowly. "It's probably nothing. Really. It's just that, well, Mr. Townsend? Is sort of watching me."

"Watching you how?" Lex demanded, lips set in a thin line.

"He's just ... I think like, when he sees me on campus, he like, looks or something, to see if I seem depressed. And maybe he asks my other teachers, I don't know. But it's just to make sure I'm not going to run away or anything. He said I was flagged as a potentially troubled student, and he thinks I'm gifted, so he doesn't want anything to happen to me. But, uh ... but it makes me a little uncomfortable."

"I don't blame you. It makes me uncomfortable, too. What's his full name?"

"Mark Townsend."

Lex wrote the name down on a piece of paper and tucked it away. "I'll have Damien run a background check on him."

"Lex ...." Clark started uneasily, but Lex cut him off.

"I can't be too careful with you, Clark. And when I hear things like that, I get nervous."

He nodded and leaned into Lex, burying his face in his neck. "Just don't do anything illegal, okay? I'm not worth breaking the law for."

Lex stroked his back. "Yes, Clark, you are. And not only because I love you. You're an alien, and that puts you at risk. I can't forget that, ever. You don't deserve to become an experiment, or to be tortured, or exploited, or anything. You deserve to grow up and live in peace, just like everyone else. And I am going to make sure that happens."

Clark swallowed. "I just don't want you to get in trouble."

"Trust me, Clark," Lex replied with a grim smile. "I won't."

________________________________________

The Talon was nearly empty when Chloe entered it. There were a few people sitting in the booths closest to the door, idling over coffee and textbooks. Lex's assistant had his wheelchair pulled up to a table by the counter, laptop open and working. Lana was behind the counter, counting the pastries left on the turntable.

Chloe took a deep breath, trying to calm her wildly beating heart. After the disaster in English, Lana had taken off for parts unknown. Chloe hadn't had a chance to talk to her afterwards, and was beginning to get stomach aches from the knots in her stomach. The only words they'd exchanged since their fight Monday evening had been about schoolwork, and Chloe knew they needed to talk. Everything she'd tried to say had come out wrong, and she wanted a chance to explain herself and, hopefully, make things better.

Lana looked up. When she saw Chloe, her cheeks colored.

Before she lost her nerve, Chloe crossed the floor and went to the counter. "Hey," she said softly. "You busy?"

"No, not really." She seemed a little distant, but that was nothing unexpected. And she wasn't hostile, which was encouraging.

Chloe licked her lips nervously. "I was wondering how you were."

Lana shrugged. "I'm okay. I'm still stung, but I'm okay."

"I'm so sorry. Everything came out wrong. I swear I didn't say any of that to hurt you."

"I just can't believe that you really think I don't care about you."

She shook her head. "It's not that I don't think you care about me, Lana. I know you do. You wouldn't lie about something like that. But there's a difference between liking someone and making them feel like they matter, and so much of the time we were together, I felt like a side issue in your life."

Lana shook her head. "You weren't. I was busy with the Talon, yes, and worried about Whitney because his life was falling apart, but that didn't mean I didn't care about you just as much. I guess I simply assumed that you'd be there when all of the other stuff cleared up."

"I didn't know that," Chloe said, looking at the counter. She spread her fingers out wide and pressed them into the wood. "I felt like you were never going to get to me. Like I'd always be a distraction or entertainment. Someone who only got the sad part of your life, and never the happy."

"Then why didn't you ever say anything?" Lana whispered, a tear falling from her eye.

Chloe shrugged and chewed on her lower lip. "I ... I guess I couldn't articulate it. Put my finger on what was bothering me until this weekend."

"I see." Lana wiped the tear from her cheek. "What bothers me, Chloe, is that you're blaming failure of our relationship on me. And it was not all my fault."

"No. Of course not, but my reluctance to get back together with you is ...."

"Because I'm self-centered, yes, I know. But you should have told me, Chloe. And don't say I wouldn't have listened, because I would have done anything for you. You're my best friend and I don't treat that lightly."

A heavy feeling grew in Chloe's stomach. "But ...."

"Yes, I spent a lot of time with Whitney, but God, Chloe, his father was dying. His friends didn't understand, and he was so alone. I know that you were my girlfriend and he was my ex, but Whitney was an important part of my life. And, okay, so maybe trying to keep the Talon from being turned into a parking lot is a testament to how much I can't let go of my parents. But it's so much more than that now, and, yes, I spend a lot of time working on it, but that's only because I want something of my own in this town. Some evidence that I am more than just a little girl on the cover of Time magazine. And I'm sorry if I made you feel less important, but if you would have told me, I would have done anything to make you feel better."

The heavy feeling had spread throughout her entire body, making her feel sick and shaky. "Lana," she tried, but her throat was closed up.

"I'm happy that you're in a relationship that's working. I was stupid to do what I did, and I'm sorry."

"Don't you understand that I want to be with you, I just want you to ...."

"Change?" Lana interrupted. "Yeah, I got that. I tried to do that with Whitney, and the one thing I learned that is if you really love someone, you don't try to change them. You accept them the way they are." She licked her lips. "I'm not Sydney. And I'm never going to be her. Maybe if we'd talked about this some other time I'd be able to conform to your standards, but right now, I feel like I'm always going to be compared to that beautiful, blond goddess you worship who can do no wrong. And I don't want to be in a relationship where I feel threatened by a memory."

"Lana, you're ...."

"I'm what?" Lana looked at her, head cocked, eyes shiny with tears.

Chloe sniffed, face crumpling. "You're right. I shouldn't do that to you. I'm so sorry."

Lana covered her mouth a moment, eyes squeezed shut. When she dropped it, she said, "I'm just so hurt right now, that's all. I'm not angry. I still want to be your friend. But I can't be with you right now."

"Okay," Chloe said, voice breaking. "Okay, I guess that's fair." She was shaking, tears creeping out of her eyes faster than she could stop them.

"Chloe, why don't you go upstairs for a while and calm down," Lana said gently.

"I'm fine. Thanks." She picked up a napkin, swiped at her eyes, and then forced a smile. "I'll see you at school. Bye."

________________________________________

Lex loved moments like this. Lazy evenings, sun setting slowly, streaming in through Clark's window as they reclined together in the hammock, Lex watching dust bunnies dance in the beams while Clark read or studied or wrote, as he was doing now. Their limbs tangled together as Clark rested his head against Lex's chest, one leg bent precariously, notebook resting on it, the other hooked around Lex's as if afraid he'd get away. Lex's hands were traveling his body lazily, taking stock of all his favorite parts: the curl behind Clark's ear, his jaw, protrusion of his collarbone, the ridges on the well-defined stomach, the curve of his hip, and back up.

Clark had been working on his letter for about fifteen minutes. He'd started talking about school and his teachers and grades. There was also some about some of the movies he'd seen, the Sharks and their incredible losing streak, the football team at school, gossip about who was going with whom, and a little on the books he'd read recently. It was all very lighthearted and trivial, but Lex had a feeling Whitney would appreciate it. Plus, the way Clark wrote, it was all very interesting; he had a knack for making even the most mundane subject interesting and Lex, who'd heard all this before, found himself increasingly engrossed in the letter.

“When you come home, we'll take one day and spend it doing Smallville. You know what I mean; like how people go to Metropolis and try and cram in all the fun stuff in a day? That's what we'll do with Smallville. We'll start with breakfast here. Mom makes the best pancakes in the whole world, and being back home won't be complete until you have some, even if you've never had them before. They taste just like home. I'd send you some if I thought they'd keep, but I have a feeling they won't be the same if they're airmailed to you.”

Lex laughed gently and kissed Clark's ear. "I thought you said Mabel made the best pancakes."

"She does," Clark replied, still writing. "But it wouldn't be the same for Whitney. Besides, I can't ask him over to your house for breakfast when he comes home. It would be weird."

Lex nodded in agreement, although he would have invited Whitney over if Clark had asked. At the same time, having Whitney, Lex, and Lionel all in the same house was not exactly recommended for optimum enjoyment of the meal. Lex was still a little jealous of Whitney, and he always would be. But, if he had to, he could deal with his feelings for Clark's sake. However, Lionel was still keeping tabs on Whitney; God only knew what he'd do when Whitney had completed his term of service.

Clark continued to write about what he and Whitney would do when he came back. Every line was suffused with vivid details about the town or their activities, making Lex feel a part of what was happening.

"You're very good," Lex said after a few minutes.

"At what?"

"Writing. You paint very clear pictures without going overboard. The words you choose are just right, somehow. Not too flowery or overwhelming. They get straight to the point, but still invite the reader into your view of the world." He stroked Clark's arm. "If you practiced, you could probably make a living at this."

"Like writing for a newspaper?"

"Is that what you would like to do?"

Clark shrugged. "I don't know. That's what Chloe wants me to do."

Lex kissed Clark's head. "But you're not Chloe. You could write fiction, or travel books, or essays. The possibilities are endless."

"I don't know. Maybe." Clark stopped and tapped his pen to his bottom lip. "I like writing. I've been writing a lot more in my journal. It's not like I have more to write, I just take more time to explain what's going on in my head." He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back against Lex's chest. "Fiction is harder. Last year my English teacher had us write some short stories, and it just came a lot harder for me. I like writing stuff like this, where I just tell about how things are."

"Maybe you should practice writing essays or something. Slices of life, like you're doing now. You might even be able to get them published somewhere; there are magazines that specialize in small town life, or the teenage experience. You could even try to get Chloe to publish in the Torch."

Clark opened his eyes. "I don't know, Lex. It's ... I don't even know if I'd like doing it. You know, for a living, I mean."

"You'll never know if you don't try. It's a cliche but true. You have a talent, and it's one you can use without looking alien. And you just said you liked to write. If you don't like writing on a deadline, that's fine, but you should still try it. It's always good to start looking at career options early."

A faint smile crossed his face, and Clark threaded his fingers through Lex's. "Why do I get the feeling you're going to be giving me a lot of career advice?"

He frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, you've had your career mapped out since you were born. You knew what you were going to be when you grew up, so you didn't get to explore a lot of different options. I'm not like that. I don't have any idea what I'm going to be, so you get to suggest things to point me in the right direction. I'm like your playground."

Lex smiled lasciviously and slid his free hand underneath Clark's jeans. "You are my playground," he whispered.

Clark arched up to Lex and met him halfway in a kiss. The hammock swayed gently when he did, making the kiss short and sloppy.

When they parted, Lex sighed, "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's like shopping, and you know how much I love dressing you. What career should you try on this week? And I do think about what career you'll have, and what clothes you'll wear while doing it. But, that aside, the more diversified and the more extracurricular activities you have, the more attractive you'll look to colleges and scholarship committees."

"I know you're right." Clark frowned and looked back at his letter. "And I do have to start thinking about college money. I don't know where it's going to come from right now."

Lex licked his lips. "You know I want to help, right?"

"I know." Clark tapped his pen against his letter. "But I don't know if my parents will accept it."

"That's my fear. But, we can worry about that when the time comes, I guess."

Clark nodded. "Yeah. I do have a few more years. Besides, maybe I will win a scholarship."

"I've no doubt you will." Lex pressed his lips into Clark's temple, holding him tightly. "How much more are you going to write?" he asked.

"Actually, I think I'm almost done. I mean, it's four pages of really weird stuff, but I think he'll enjoy it."

Lex smiled and pressed his cheek into Clark's head. "I think he will too."

Clark turned his head to look back at Lex. "Thanks for doing this with me. I know you don't like Whitney, so this means something to me."

"My pleasure," he whispered. He kissed Clark gently.

Clark turned back to his letter and began writing again. Lex read over his shoulder.

"I've been putting off telling you this because I don't want to hurt you, but you should know: Lex and I are back together. I practically had to beat some sense into him for trying to push such a good thing away, but he did finally see things my way. And I'm happy. There aren't even words for it. Only feelings. Like when you feel as if you're constantly floating, and your limbs are full of bubbly water, and there is a permanent smile on your face. It's like flying.

"I can only hope one day you find someone who makes you feel the same way. You deserve to be this happy. You deserve to be happier."

"No he doesn't," Lex broke in.

"Shhhh," Clark said fiercely. "He does too. Besides, I'm trying to cheer him up."

"Sorry." Lex kissed his neck and went back to playing with Clark's hair and reading over his shoulder.

"Along the same vein, I do have to tell you something. Although I only love you as a friend, I do love you," Clark wrote. "I wish it were more because I know how much it would mean to you, but, at the same time, I'm happy with what it is. I know you'll find someone better for you than I would ever be. Someone who makes you feel as if you could fly.

"You asked me about the stars, and what I feel when I look at them," Clark wrote. "I don't feel small or diminished. I'm not religious, and I don't feel insignificant compared to the magnificence of his design. I feel a part of it. If there is a God--and I know you still believe in him, even if you aren't speaking with him right now--I don't think he wants us to feel diminished or insignificant. I think he'd want us to feel important in our own spheres: where we live, who we interact with, that sort of thing. Maybe, in the grand scheme of the world, it won't matter if we lived or died. But it will matter to the people we know and care about. To our friends and families, and lovers and offspring. So we aren't supposed to feel insignificant, especially when doing something big, like you are. You need to believe in yourself, and your destiny, and that what you do will make a difference to someone.

"I believe in you. I believe what you are doing is important and that, more importantly, you are important. I'm proud that you had the courage to do this, and that you made the choice out of a desire do something greater than yourself. You made the right choice. But, even so, I want you to come home soon, where it's safer.

"I know that sometimes it's hard for you to remember why you left. You are fighting for a cause you believe in: family, home, freedom. You're fighting for the right to live the way you want to, and the right to be who you want to be. And, most importantly, you're fighting to forge your own destiny. You're facing a trial, and it's not easy. But when you're done, and when you come home, you'll know that you did something important and survived. You'll know you are a hero.

"You asked for hope. I don't know how to give you hope. All I can do is to give you my faith. I have faith in you, faith in your strength, and faith in your goodness.

"I hope some of what I said helped. And I hope to hear from you soon.

"Always,

"Clark."

Lex watched as Clark signed his name and then sighed.

"Do you think that will help?" Clark asked, eyes closing as he rested his head back against Lex's chest.

Stroking Clark's forehead, Lex kissed him gently. "I think Whitney is lucky to have a friend like you."

Clark smiled softly and took Lex's hand. "Thank you."

"Of course."

________________________________________

Guilt was a familiar and almost comforting emotion. Guilt for not dying with her parents, guilt for not being good enough at school, guilt for never deserving any of the trophies she'd won, or the towns admiration, or Whitney's affection, or Clark's, or Chloe's or .... Well. The list went on and on. The truth was, Lana spent her days trying to ignore the guilt she felt at still being alive at almost seventeen when her parents were dead and her entire life was a sham.

And now this.

But what else could she do? She wanted to run the Talon by herself one day. She wanted to believe she was smart enough and capable enough. It wasn't her fault there was a tiny error in Nell's accounting, right? And reporting it to Lex was the right thing to do, right? He was her partner; he deserved to know if something was amuck in the financial aspect of the business. She had no choice. It wasn't her fault.

It didn't stop the guilt. Her stomach was tied in knots, hands sweaty, and her smile felt forced as she greeted the customers and poured coffee. When Lex finally walked in, it was all she could do to return his nod of greeting and finish pouring the coffee.

By the time Lana got to the bar to join Lex, he was holding the poem she'd found last night at her parent's graves. He looked amused, as if he could tell what the contents were without having read it.

She really didn't want him to read it. Both Clark and Chloe had expressed their dismay over it when they'd seen it--and she hadn't been able to help herself from showing them both as a way to prove at least someone in the world liked her for who she was. Lex didn't like her; God only knew what he would do.

Without a word, Lana set the coffee pot on the counter and tried to grab the letter. When he pulled it away with a teasing smile on his face, she gave up and said, "Go ahead and read it."

Lex grinned and, looking insufferably pleased with himself, read the poem. Lana knew it by heart, so she recited it in her mind, ending just about the point where Lex looked up.

"The, uh, imagery is a little naive, but the meter's actually quite sophisticated," he said, taking Lana by surprise. "Who wrote this?"

"Well, either an admirer or a psychopath, depending on who you ask. Pete thinks it's sweet, Clark thinks it's sappy, and Chloe seems to think it's going to bite her."

"Where did you find it?"

She straightened, lifting her chin ever so slightly. "I found it at my parents' grave."

He grimaced. "I'm with Chloe on this one, unless she wrote it."

"Chloe isn't eloquent enough. And everyone seems to be giving me a hard for even liking the poem to begin with, which I would, even if it wasn't for me."

Lex was leaning against the counter now, looking at her. His eyes flicked towards the door a moment, and then, in a low voice that sent shivers up her spine, he recited, "'Take me to you, imprison me, for I never shall be free, nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.'"

Wow, he had a beautiful voice, and so intense. It made her stomach squirm and heat to travel through her body. "John Donne," she managed. "One of my favorites."

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes coolly measuring her. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say I found your Achilles' heel."

What? Lana frowned and looked at him a moment; what on earth did that mean? Was he trying to find some weakness, because Lana was sure that he already knew all her weakness as well as she did. What did poetry have to do with anything?

She brushed his statement aside. "I didn't know you were so into poetry."

"Anyone who doesn't appreciate poetry doesn't understand that it's all about seduction." Then he turned so his back was against the counter. "Hello Clark."

Clark's eyes were dark and heavy-lidded. "Lex. Are you giving a poetry reading?"

He smirked and let his gaze travel over Clark's body. "Poetry readings can be very educational."

"Really? I don't suppose we could do one sometime? A private poetry reading?"

"I'll have to check my schedule, but I'm sure I could fit one in."

Lana blushed at the heat in Clark's eyes. God; they were both so intense so ... so sexual. And all they were doing was talking.

Lex glanced at her, his smirk growing as he looked at her. Then he turned back to Clark. "Do you want some coffee?"

"Yeah. It's kind of why I came here."

"Order something, and I'll pay before we go. I have to talk to Lana a moment."

Clark nodded. "Don't take long."

"I'll try not to."

When Clark was gone, Lana tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, "So, thanks for coming."

Lex nodded. "Truthfully, I was surprised by your call. I thought you were angry at Clark and me."

Lana frowned, trying to figure out what he meant, then waved her hand. "Well, it was just Clark, but that was a misunderstanding. Besides, I didn't know what to do. Um, you know that Nell doesn't let me do the bookkeeping yet, but I've been practicing on my own using the Talon's figures? Well, I was checking my work against hers, and I noticed that numbers for a few weeks ago changed in the real books. And, flipping back through the months, they're all different from when I began. I know they were right when I wrote them down, but they've been changed."

"I see." Lex stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. "Did you tell Nell?"

"No. I don't think she knows I keep my own books, either." Guilt ate at Lana's stomach and she twisted her hands. "Is she doing something?"

His eyes focused on her and he smiled. "Don't worry about it, Lana. Do you know if Nell is doing anything with Dean this weekend?"

"I think they're going to the movies on Saturday night," she said nervously, twisting her fingers. God, she hated this, hated feeling like she was the worst niece in the world.

"Good. I'll have someone come out that night to check everything over. I don't want you to worry about anything. You've done your job, now let me do mine."

Lana licked her lips. "What if she is stealing or something?"

He hesitated, and then shrugged. "I don't know. I need to get a better idea of what's going on before I decide anything." He touched her arm gently. "Thank you, Lana. I'm glad you told me first."

She smiled wanly, feeling sick. "Yeah," she lied, knowing she'd betrayed Nell. "Me too."

________________________________________

"Hey," Lex said. He dropped into the seat across from Clark's, at their usual table near the back, mostly hidden from the rest of the shop by one of the columns.

"Hey. What was that about?" he asked, glancing at Lana. She looked near tears.

Lex shrugged. "Lana thinks that Nell might be stealing from the Talon. It's nothing you need to worry about." He stepped gently on Clark's foot. "I don't really want to hang around here. Not tonight. Want to come home with me?"

Clark licked his lips nervously. "Uh ... I guess. I don't know."

"Clark." Lex leaned forward and studied him for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he said, "You have to face Dad sometime. To keep the advantage you gained the last time you saw him. Come on; it's just for the evening, and it isn't like we're going to do anything." He smiled a touch lasciviously and shrugged. "Besides, I have something to show you."

"What?"

"It's a surprise," he responded mysteriously. "Please, come over."

He heaved a sigh and nodded. He knew Lex was right; he did have to face Lionel again. Avoiding the mansion was stupid and it meant Clark was allowing Lionel to control his life. And he didn't want that. "Yeah," he said aloud to strengthen his decision. "I'll go."

If they weren't in public, Clark knew Lex would have kissed him. As it was, he was subject to a long, lingering and crotch tightening look, as well as a mental ^brush^ that sent tingles down his spine.

They were silent on the drive over. Clark was lost in thought of how to deal with Lionel. As everyone constantly pointed out, he was a horrible liar. Okay, sure, he knew that part of the reason he sucked at lying was because he gave everything away in his face and, since Lionel was blind, that wouldn't be as much of a problem as it used to be. But he still got tense, anxious, and stupid when around Lionel. That hadn't changed.

"Dad is working," Lex said as they pulled up to the mansion.

"Huh?"

Lex glanced at him, and then back at the driveway as they wound their way around the house to the garage. "Dad's been working a lot lately, so he's not just wandering around aimlessly anymore. His office is on the second floor on the same wing as mine, and if he's working, he won't leave it. And he most likely won't come into my rooms right now, either my bedroom or the entertainment room." He pulled into the garage and eased his car into its spot. "I'm not going to lock the door, because I think it's better for you to face him if he does come in, but I doubt that we'll see him."

Clark exhaled slowly, counting the beats as he did. "Okay. I'll be okay. Really."

"I know." Lex reached over and squeezed his hand. "Besides, before we go play video games, I have something to show you, and Dad isn't allowed anywhere near it."

"What are you going to show me?" he asked suggestively, running his thumb over Lex's wrist.

"It's a surprise." Lex lifted his hand, kissed it, and then climbed out of the car. "So, Lana has a secret admirer." He glanced at Clark and then climbed out.

Clark climbed out as well and closed his door. Leaning against the car--which he knew Lex didn't like him to do, he said, "Yeah, I guess so. If that poem she found wasn't a joke."

"I don't think it was a joke, Clark. It seemed quite sincere to me." Cocking his head towards the door, he walked across the garage.

"That poem kind of freaks me out." He jogged to Lex to catch up. "Actually, the whole thing freaks me out." He opened the door leading to the house before Lex could.

"Why? Upset someone is taking your act?"

Clark rolled his eyes and reached out to trail his hand along the wall as they made their way through the corridors. He'd never been in this part of the house before; usually when they came, they immediately went upstairs, and Clark had never been interested in what Lex kept in the downstairs rooms.

"No, it's not that. And I never left her things. I just sort of watched her sometimes and thought about how beautiful she was. I wasn't really a stalker."

"Keep telling yourself that." Lex grinned and quirked his eyebrows. "What does bother you about it?"

Clark frowned. "It's just, if she'd found the note in her locker, that would be one thing, right? It's normal. Well, maybe not normal, but it isn't morbid, like leaving a poem in a cemetery next to her dead parents."

"Actually, I find it more disturbing that Lana was at her parents' graves in the middle of the night. The fact that there was a poem waiting for her only serves to show how predictable her habits are."

"True. But that's Lana; she goes there all the time to talk to them. She even introduced me to them once." He shrugged. "And the poem is like really intense. All those things that the guy said. Why doesn't he sign it, or say it to her face?" He sighed. "Plus, she doesn't need this right now, with the whole Chloe thing going on."

Lex stopped in front of a door and faced Clark. "So it's okay that Chloe is moving on, and that she's going out this weekend to a club, but it's not okay that Lana found out that someone thinks she pretty?"

"No. That's not ... Like I said, it'd be fine if there wasn't such a stalkery, Gothic, doomed-lover, psycho-killer-looking-to-act-out-the-murder-of-his-first-love-vibe to it. If the note had been passed to her in class, or left in her locker, or in the stable, or mailbox or somewhere that didn't have death surrounding to it, I'd breathe easier. This is weird, and she thinks it's romantic and normal."

"Lana has a death obsession, Clark. She hangs out in graveyards, reads literature having to do with death, and sees herself as having a very short life-span. Didn't you tell me that she said she never thought she'd live very long?"

"Well ... yeah."

"The long and short of it is Lana is going to think this is normal and romantic because, yes, there is a touch of creepy romance to it, but also because she's so unhappy with Chloe right now. She's going to cling to the idea that someone thinks she's beautiful and perfect just the way she is. And that means she's going to be in the cemetery, waiting for her Mister Right to come down and proclaim his love for her." He broke off, sighing. "And you will be there too, watching out for her to make sure she's safe."

 _Are you reading my mind?/_

 _No. I just know you too well._

Clark sighed. "I only want to make sure she's okay."

Lex wrinkled his nose, which made him look almost irresistible. "I understand. But be careful."

"I will." Clark leaned in, pushing Lana and her problems away. It was occurring to him that they were alone, in a dark, empty section of Lex's home, and he hadn't kissed his lover in far too long. Okay, a day, but he was a teenager, so it felt like a long time. "Lex," he said in a low voice, a playful smile curving his lips, "am I allowed to kiss you?"

He considered it a moment. "Depends on where."

He kissed the end of Lex's nose. "There?"

"I think it's allowed."

The next kiss was on each of Lex's cheeks. "And that?"

"Yes."

Clark licked his lips, and then delicately placed a kiss at the corner of his mouth. "And there?"

"Yes, Clark. And you can even kiss me here." He tilted his head and kissed Clark gently on the mouth. "But that's it. Anything more, and the staff might think there's something funny going on between us."

Laughing softly, Clark kissed him again. "But these manly kisses will throw them off."

"Completely." One hand curved around Clark's neck and Lex pulled him close for a long, deep kiss. "Okay," he sighed when he pulled away. "And now the surprise." Lex reached into his pocket and pulled out two keys. "This is your key, this one is mine. Only three of these keys exist: mine, yours, and Damien's. No one else is allowed in this room." He unlocked the door.

"Why?" Clark asked, a little nervous and the intensity Lex was exhibiting.

"You'll see." He pushed the door open and stepped back to allow Clark in.

The room was fitted with heavy drapes over the windows, making the room practically black. Lex flicked on the light and stepped in after Clark, shutting the door behind him.

"I thought you had gotten rid of the Porsche," Clark said, crossing the room to the mangled car. A heaviness pressed inside him, sadden that the car still existed and upset by the implications.

"I don't know why, since I certainly never said that. I never even suggested it."

"Why do you still need it?" He felt betrayed by the fact Lex still had it, and he wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if Lex didn't know everything about him; the car wasn't threat anymore. But, God, why did he need it?

Lex was running his hand over the silver metal, eyes on Clark. "It helps remind me of who I was, and the second chance I've been given." His voice was even and smooth, almost formal. Distant. It raked over Clark's spine unpleasantly, making his stomach ache.

"Can't I do that?" His voice sounded hoarse.

"To a certain extent. You remind me of who I want to be, and what I am trying to become. But I still need reminders of who I was. Where I came from." He inclined his head. "Besides, you aren't with me all the time."

 _Yes I am._

Lex smiled and shook his head. "No, Clark, you're not. And, even if you were, I'd still need this." He rapped the car lightly with his knuckles. "This is what I came from. I mean, I still buy expensive cars, but I don't live this life anymore. Do you understand? Fast cars, fast women, faster men. Drugs. Clark, do you know how many times I've thought about going back? Not to Metropolis, and not necessarily back to this lifestyle, but I thought about giving up. Last year, whenever things got rough, I wanted just to dull the pain. Make it go away and to forget, just like I used to." He laughed bitterly. "It would have been so easy."

He walked around the car to Lex and drew him into his body. "But you didn't."

"I wanted to. Sometimes, I still do." Lex pressed his face into Clark's chest, arms holding him tightly.

Clark sighed and kissed his head. "I know." He rubbed Lex's back soothingly. "I know you think about it. But you don't do it, and that's what's important. Yeah, thoughts help define us, but it's actions that count. You know? It's actions that make us who we are."

Lex tilted his head to look at Clark. "Maybe," he said doubtfully.

Clark kissed him gently. "I wouldn't love you so much if I didn't know what a good person you are. Thinking about doing bad things doesn't make you bad; it makes you human." He brushed his lips over Lex's again. "I understand why you keep the car. But, trust me; you'd be just as strong of a person without it."

A flush lit Lex's cheeks and he kissed Clark quickly before stepping out of his embrace. "Uh, this isn't what I brought you down to see."

"No?"

"No. This is a junk room of all the stuff about you I should get rid of and just can't. Like the Porsche and the ripped sheets and the mattress you ruined. That sort of stuff. Plus, you know. The computer simulation of the accident that Nixon created."

Clark raised an eyebrow and looked at the computer before turning back to Lex.

He at least had the decency to look apologetic. "I want to destroy it," he said. "I mean, it's not like I need it. I know what happened. And yet, watching it is oddly riveting." He smiled lopsidedly.

He nudged Lex with his elbow; at least it was in a locked room, and not in a lab somewhere. "You're giving Lana a run for her money on morbidity, you know. Watching yourself die over and over?"

Lex shrugged and shook his head. "You knew I was obsessive when you fell in love with me. But come on; I want to show you the surprise." He took Clark by the hand and led him across the room.

"Uh, Lex?" Clark said when they stopped at the far end of the room. "It's a wall."

He smiled mysteriously. "Scan it."

Clark looked doubtfully at Lex a moment, and then x-rayed the wall. To his surprise, there was a door behind the panel they were standing in front of. And a hall. Switching back to normal vision, he looked at Lex. "I don't get it."

"It's a secret passage. Not in any of the plans, and the people who reconstructed the castle have forgotten. If Dad knows--and I doubt his does--he won't be able to get in; I've too much security on it. Watch this carefully. To open the wall, you press right here." Lex pressed his hand into a bit of scrollwork that ran in the middle of the wall.

There was a muted clang, and then the wall retracted, revealing a large, metal door. "I thought about lining it with lead, but then realized that would work against you. It would make it a safe place for you to go if someone had meteor rocks, but you wouldn't be able to see out if someone was in the room. Although no one who doesn't have access should ever be in here, I want you to scan every time you leave, just to make sure. If it's not Damien or me, call."

"Lex, what ..." Clark started, but Lex shook his head, his smile returning.

"Don't worry, Clark, you'll see. Now, you'll have to memorize this code. Punch it in first: 42-61-58." Lex typed the code into the keypad next to the door. "Then use your key." Lex slid Clark's key into the keyhole and opened the door. "If you put the key in first, the alarm will sound and a lead cage will fall over you. Only Damien or I can retract it."

Clark laughed uncomfortably. "Can't you give me the code to that, too?"

"No. I want you to learn to be careful." Lex smiled and gestured for Clark to proceed him into the hall. When they were in, Lex closed the door. "Push this button when you get back in, and the wall will slide back into place. Now, let's go see the surprise." Lex took his hand again and led him down the short hall. "Eventually, I'm going to move the Porsche into that room," he said as they passes a closed door. "I'd planned to do it before the wall was put in, but, sadly, that was the weekend I was being bamboozled by Desiree, so it slipped my mind. I have no idea how I'll get it in now. And," he said, stopping in front of the last door. "Here is your surprise."

Clark braced himself, prepared for ... well, he wasn't sure what he was prepared for at this point. He trusted Lex implicitly and yet, all this James Bond cloak and dagger stuff was freaking him out. What was behind the door? A lab? A ... a ... kinky ... sex room thing?

Lex touched his arm. "Breathe, Clark." He opened the door.

"Oh ... wow," Clark breathed when he saw the room.

It was beautiful. And unreal, like something out of a fairy tale or something. The room glowed softly, as if there was a miniature sun inside; Clark couldn't even see a light source, even though he knew there had to be one.

"Do you like it?" Lex asked.

Clark nodded mutely and stepped inside. The floor was a very pale green and gave slightly under his feet, like foam or rubber, but not quite. The walls were a deep cream. Along one wall were deep, soft-looking benches and a shelf of flowering plants above them; another contained a fountain that stretched across the entire length of the room, a stone pagoda tucked away in one corner and fed the water to the main basin. Inside the basin were rocks, a few small fish, and green plants that rose from the water. On the back wall across from the door were two large structures that looked like they were saunas or something. Soft music played, and Clark wondered if it was automatic, or if Lex had started it when they entered without him noticing.

"It's ... wow," Clark said again. He stepped further inside, studying the sand box in the center of the room. "What's that for?"

"It's a rock garden," Lex said. He placed his hands on Clark's shoulders and leaned against him. "The rocks represent mountains and the sand represents flowing water. You rake the sand, and it's supposed to be calming."

"Is it?"

"Yeah." Clark felt Lex shrug.

"It's really pretty." He moved his eyes from the rock garden back to the saunas or whatever they were for a moment. He scanned them briefly and, uninterested in the contents, scanned the rest of the room. There was a large sound system behind the right wall. "How do you control the stereo?" he asked.

"It's wired to go off when the door opens. Every CD in there is designed for relaxation, meditation, that sort of thing. Damien's physical therapist has been teaching me yoga, and I come down here mostly to practice; he recommended some CDs that I have in there, but they don't come on unless I call them." He let go of Clark and went back to the entrance. There was a cabinet on the wall. "These are the controls."

Clark went to the cabinet and played with it a bit. There was a volume control, CD changer, and a computer screen that gave the complete library contained in the system. "That's cool."

Lex smiled. "It is, isn't it?"

"This room is so cool."

"Thanks. I decided I needed a place where I could be isolated from everyone else. Where I could just relax completely."

Clark nodded. "When did this get done?"

"It was finished about two weeks ago. But I still have to show you the most important part." Lex moved behind Clark and wrapped his arms around his waist, trying to propel him across the room.

A grin spread across Clark's face as he allowed himself to be propelled towards the sauna-things. "They're saunas, right?"

"Well, one is, yes." Lips pressed into his neck and then Lex stepped around him. "Okay, the one on the left is for me. It's a sauna, and I really don't think you'd be happy in there. But this is for you." He opened the door.

Clark looked inside. The entire thing was made of metal, but Lex had done his best to cover that fact up. Thick blue and green tapestries hung over the walls and the floor was made of the same spongy material as the rest of the room. Built into the walls were deep, white couches with pillows at each end.

"Go inside."

"What is it?" Clark gingerly stepped inside and looked around.

Lex followed him. "It's a cooling chamber. Controlled from the inside, right here. You can make it as cold as you want." He smiled tentatively. "You know, because you tend to like things cooler. And sometimes your temperature does funny things, so I thought you could use a place like this."

"Wow." Clark honestly didn't know what to say. Yes, during the summer was usually uncomfortable. And, yes, sometimes he just wished that his parents would let him open up all the windows in the winter and let the breeze in. But it wasn't something that bothered him. Not exactly.

But this was .... "Oh, wow."

"You like it."

"Yes. I mean," Clark turned to Lex and caught him in a tight hug. "I love that you did this for me."

Lex's fingers threaded in his hair. "When you were on the red meteor rock, I thought about dragging you down here, but it wasn't finished. After I saw what happened to you last summer when you were so miserable, I had to do something." He kissed Clark's cheek.

Clark turned his head and caught Lex's lips. Walking him backwards, Clark led him to one of the couches and laid him on it. "Thank you," he whispered, kissing down his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"There's a separate sound system in here. I want you to tell me what CDs to order for you."

"Lex ...."

"It's a present."

Clark caught Lex's earlobe between his teeth, knowing that if he refused, he'd only hurt Lex. Besides, it wasn't like his father was ever going to find out, and it wouldn't hurt to accept the gift. "Thanks," he finally said.

"So, do you want to try it out?" Lex asked, bucking his hips into Clark.

He moaned softly. "Not right now. I want to christen it."

Lex laughed and pulled his head away. Eyes slit, he gave Clark a look that went straight to his cock. "Christening sounds good." He laughed again when Clark pressed him into one of the couches and covered him.

But, before Clark could kiss him again, Lex's cell phone rang.

"Dammit," Lex swore. Doing some creative wiggling, he managed to pull his phone from his pocket. "Lex Luthor." His face changed. "What has he done now? He ...." Lex's eyes snapped to Clark's face as he paled.

 _“What?”_

 _“Dad hired your mom to work for him.”_

"What!" Clark shot off him.

"Is she still here? Okay. Okay, thanks, Damien." Lex rose and hung up. "It isn't official yet, although Dad already called Dominic to ask him to start on paperwork. Your mom dropped by to pick up the produce check, and she and Dad got into a conversation in the garden. She left a little while ago."

"She can't work for him!"

He was at the door when Lex caught him around the neck. "Clark, stop." He pressed his body against Clark's and put his hands on the door on either side of Clark's head. _Breathe._

"Lex ...." Clark managed in a choked voice. He was gasping for breath, wanting to run, but Lex was pressed against him, one leg twined with his.

 _Clark! Listen to me. Close your eyes and breathe._

He could throw Lex off, but that would hurt him. Besides, Clark couldn't breathe. Heart thundering in his chest, Clark obeyed Lex's command and tried to take a breath. His eyes fluttered shut, and the air got caught in his throat, making him gasp.

Lex pulled back and turned Clark around so his back was pressed against the door. Then, he once again twined a leg through Clark's, pressed his body to him, and rested their foreheads together. _It's okay, Clark. Just relax and breathe. Let everything else go away._

 _“But Mom ...”  
“Is fine right now. Anything that might happen is not going to happen now. And before we can do anything, you need to calm down. Your mom is on her way home, and Dad's still here. It's okay. Breathe.”_

Clark bit his lip and forced himself to inhale. It didn't help. He still felt edgy and nervous and needed to get out of the room and to his mother.

 _/Clark, focus your mind on me/_ Lex said; briefly, and startlingly, Clark caught a thought that wasn't directed at him along with that. It sounded a lot like _/He's just feeding off his own panic./_

Weird; ever since they'd learned how to control the telepathy, stray thoughts like that hadn't been sneaking through. It was enough to ^catch^ Clark's mind and focus him until the room around him disappeared into blackness and all that existed was him and Lex.

Lex stepped closer so his entire body was pressed against Clark's. He laced his fingers together; it felt weird, somehow, like Clark's skin was vibrating so hard, he couldn't distinguish between his hands and Lex's. If he were naked, he knew his body would feel the same way; it almost did. Slightly melty, fluid, and very unreal.

Lex took a deep breath; in response, Clark's mouth opened and he inhaled. Cool, clean air flowed into him, unrestricted and unimpeded by the panic of moments before. As the air rushed in, his mind ^snapped^ open, allowing Lex to merge with him completely.

There was a difference between being focused on Lex and being inside him. Or maybe Lex was inside Clark, and really, at this point, it didn't matter because they were inside each other and all Clark knew, felt, and heard was Lex.

Lex's heart was beating in strong, steady beats. It ^tugged^ at Clark's, jolting it from its frantic rhythm until it beat in time with Lex's. Clark's blood slowed until it thrummed through him, feeling almost double as he felt Lex's blood coursing through his own veins. Each breath felt doubled as Lex's chest pressed against his when they inhaled, air sliding through their nose, down their trachea, to their lungs. Clark imagined that he could actually feel the oxygen transferring from his lungs into his body and being replaced with carbon dioxide. When he exhaled, he was almost surprised to feel the warm air against his cheek from Lex, they were so merged.

 _“It's going to be okay,”_ Lex whispered. _“It's going to be okay.”_

The thought ^moved^ through Clark's body, rippling. Lex was ^sliding^ farther and farther into him, relaxing Clark's muscles and making him feel warm and heavy. It felt as if Lex were massaging each muscle, breaking up the tension until they lost definition and went limp. In his mind's eyes, Clark could see Lex's sensory net glowing faintly as it pressed into Clark's, working out knots and smoothing the strands until they hung loosely between the beads.

And the sensations weren't all internal. Cool fingers massaged his temples and down behind his ears. Hyper-aware of everything Lex, Clark's attention was grabbed; it felt like Lex's fingers melting into his skin as they continued to massage down his neck and over his shoulders.

 _“It's okay. It's okay.”_

Clark's body was willing to believe it. All the tension bled out of him under Lex's constant barrage of reassurance and warmth. His heart slowed and breathing evened as, completely limp, Clark's legs gave out.

Lex was ready. As Clark sank to the floor, Lex wrapped his arms around Clark's waist and lowered them gently. Lex shifted and moved so his back was propped against the wall and guided Clark until his head rested in Lex's lap. He continued to massage Clark's temples and scalp in earnest, very slowly ^leaving^ Clark's body, trusting him to breathe on his own.

For his part, Clark felt like a puddle of melted goo, boneless and limp. He was still upset, but it didn't seem as important anymore. Well, important, yes, urgent, no.

The world shifted around Clark and, just for a moment, he had an image of his birth parents held still in front of his eyes. He was very small and sitting in a high chair, looking at them. They were standing together in the middle of the room, Sheal crying softly, Tok with his arms around her in a tight embrace. Their foreheads were pressed together and Tok whispered to her so softly Clark could only hear the soft sounds and not the words. Their faces were a picture of perfect concentration and love as Tok's thumb caressed along Sheal's jaw line.

Clark inhaled sharply and the image broke apart. Opening his eyes, he looked up at Lex.

"I wonder if my birth parents were telepaths," he said.

Lex's brow furrowed. "I wonder a lot about your birth parents. I wish there were answers."

Clark yawned. "The ship has them. But I don't know how to get into it." He stretched, feeling blood move sluggishly through tired limbs. "That felt good."

"You have to do it to me sometimes."

"Okay." He yawned again. "I don't want to tell Mom."

"I know. But, if you do, you know everything will be all right. She won't blame you, she won't think any less of you. You won't change at all in her eyes."

Clark closed his eyes. "But she'll be so sad."

"Yes." Lex's thumb brushed over his lips. "Yes, she will." He moved, gently lifting Clark's head out of his lap and placing it on the floor. Then he stretched out besides Clark. "You don't have to tell her right now."

"I should. She deserves to know the kind of man she's going to be working for."

Lex shrugged and stroked the side of his face. "It's up to you. We can just ask her why she would consider taking a job for Dad. That's all. Because Dad only offered the job; we don't know what your mom said."

Clark swallowed. "But he called Dominic."

"Dad's a smug bastard, and too confident for his own good. But he's never gone up against Martha Kent before."

Clark looked at him. Lex was smiling.

"Yeah, you're right. He hasn't." He stretched again. "Okay. I think I'm ready to go."

Lex's eyes turned dark and he crawled on top of Clark. Cupping the back of Clark's head in his hand, Lex leaned down and kissed him.

Still tingly from their merge, he gasped at the contact. His mouth opened and Lex's tongue slid in slowly, brushing lightly against his own. Shivers ran through Clark as he kissed Lex back, rubbing his neck with his thumb.

"It's going to be okay, Clark," Lex whispered when they pulled away. "It will."

Clark sighed. "I hope so."  
________________________________________

When Martha arrived home after depositing all the produce checks at the bank, her mind still hadn't calmed. Ever since her meeting--her three hour meeting--with Lionel, it had been spinning.

He wanted her to be his personal assistant. Why? Why on earth would he think she would be interested? Want to work for him? It was beyond all bounds of common sense. He'd taken her son away, for God's sake. Been cruel to Lex. Terrorized her husband.

And he wanted her to work for him. To accept a job in which she would be with him all day, every day. Why? Was he really that stupid?

"No," Martha said aloud as she entered the house. Dropping her purse and keys on the table, she walked to the coat rack and hung up her jacket.

No. Lionel wasn't stupid. He was just overconfident. So, what was his game?

Trying to slow the turmoil, Martha went into the kitchen and began pulling out things for dinner. Clark would be upset. She'd make him spaghetti; it was his favorite meal and often seemed to comfort him. Not like soup did, but there wasn't time to make soup.

Martha was chopping the first tomato when she realized her hands were shaking. Which was when she realized that she was thinking of taking the job, and it frightened her.

She set the knife down and closed her eyes. As she leaned against the counter, she took a deep breath and held it.

It would be less frightening if she knew Lionel's motives in making the offer. If he was simply so confident that his money and charm would wash away the sins of the past, then she'd be fine. If not, if he expected her to take the position as a form of revenge or something, then Martha was about to get involved in a dangerous game.

If she took the job.

Jonathan would never approve. But, then, she didn't need his approval. She'd talk around him, be properly apologetic, explain her side, and then do what she wanted. Yes, he'd give her grief, but this was something she had to do.

Not that she'd made up her mind either way yet.

Jonathan was a sweet and good man, but he didn't understand Lionel, not really. Jonathan's introduction into the Luthor's world had been traumatic. He hadn't known what he was getting into and had been badly hurt. Of course, Lionel hadn't exactly played fair, either. Well, the game was never fair, but he'd known Jonathan would have eventually caught on, so he'd kept Jonathan isolated and off balance, never giving him a chance to figure things out.

Martha, however, grew up in the world. She'd been to the parties, worked in the corporate world, and been trained to belong. She'd mouthed the properly twisted truths and smiled and kept secrets and studied the politics and backroom dealings and learned how things were done. And the first chance she'd had, Martha had run. Because as much as she liked the intellectual stimulation of being a lawyer and enjoyed working with her father, she did not want to belong to a world where she could never trust anyone. She wanted more out of life. Truth, honesty, justice, and love.

And that's what she had with Jonathan. Love and passion, trust and honesty. A child. A family. A home.

Unfortunately, the stability of their home was constantly threatened by Lionel Luthor. He had so much power over her family. Too much. Power that she wanted to undermine.

But could she do it? Could she match Lionel at his own game? Because she knew she couldn't beat him, but, with luck and talent, maybe ....

"Honey?" Jonathan said, directly behind her.

Martha jerked in surprise and whirled around. "Jonathan!" she exclaimed, her heart pounding. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I know," he replied slowly. "I've been trying to get your attention, but you weren't answering." He frowned, looking her over. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" she started, but she could never lie to Jonathan, so she gave up before she really tried. Sighing, Martha brushed her hair off her forehead. "I talked to Lionel Luthor this afternoon. He offered me a job."

Jonathan's eyes darkened and he went very still. "He ... What kind of job?"

"He wants me to be his assistant. Apparently he's been having problems finding a competent one, and ...."

"And he just decided to ask you?"

"I went to the mansion to pick up the produce check; Mabel was out, so I went to see if Lex or Damien were anywhere, when I ran into Lionel. I sat down and talked to him, and then he ... he offered me the job. He spent three hours explaining the benefits and my salary and my duties."

"But you told him no."

She took a deep breath and forced herself to keep her gaze steady. "Well, not exactly. I told him I wanted to discuss it with you first."

Jonathan laughed. "Are you joking?" When she didn't answer, he frowned. "Martha, you know what I'm going to say. There is no way in hell you can be serious about taking this job."

"Jonathan, think about it for a moment."

"Think about what? The financial benefit? I don't want his money. I'd rather sell the farm and find another job. Even move if we had to."

"It's not that. I'm ...."

"Are you bored? Is that it?"

Martha's jaw clenched. "No, Jonathan ...."

"I've been telling you for years that you could take an outside job if you want," Jonathan continued. "Yes, we need you on the farm and it would be a burden, but I'd be willing to ...."

"Will you just stop talking for a moment and let me get a word in?" Martha interrupted loudly.

Jonathan fell silent, face clouded.

She sighed and rubbed her face. "Look, I know that Lionel Luthor is not the employer either one of us would have chosen. And, frankly, I'm a little scared by his offer. But ...."

The back door opened, cutting her off. The moment she saw Clark, her heart sank. He wouldn't look at her and he kept his head down and shoulders hunched in as if he were trying to disappear. It was a big step back to his behavior last spring before he'd run away.

She sighed. "Hi boys. Come on in."

"Martha, this isn't a good time."

"They know, Jonathan," Martha said, her eyes meeting Lex.

Lex offered her a half smile and guided Clark to the table. "Here," he said softly. "Do you want a drink?"

"I'm fine," Clark said, eyes on the table top.

There was a sudden squeeze in Martha's heart and she realized, despite what she'd thought last spring and all summer, she didn't want to know the details of what Lionel Luthor had done to her baby. She knew something had happened, something that neither Lex nor Clark wanted to tell her. She'd been a little resentful of both of them, but, at the same time, had forced herself to be patient and open. Loving and supportive, convinced that, given time, Clark would come to her.

And now the moment was here, and she didn't want to know. Couldn't know, especially if she did take the job. She needed to be able to face Lionel without needing to kill him.

She took a deep breath and tried to control the sudden trembling in her limbs. "What have you heard?"

As expected, it was Lex who answered. "Dad's already calling Metropolis to get your paperwork in order. I wouldn't be surprised if you were on the payroll before you gave him a definite answer." Lex shrugged and caressed Clark's neck.

"I didn't say yes," Martha told them. "I told him I'd think about it."

"Once Dad sets his mind on something, he generally gets it. And if he's decided he wants you, he'll do anything he can to have you."

Martha shot him an annoyed look, which Lex returned steadily. "Lex ...."

"If you take the job, you have to be prepared for everything, Mrs. Kent. He'll flatter you, give you gifts, touch you, do anything he can to get close to you."

"Martha ...." Jonathan started, but she cut him off.

"Jonathan, I need to know everything if I'm going to take this job."

"Don't take the job then."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" she finally shouted. Then she winced and took a deep breath. "I know what a bad man Lionel Luthor is. Believe it or not, I was here last spring when he took Clark away. I even talked to him. And I know what he did to you, Jonathan. You told me. And I've seen him work before. I've dealt with him in the business world. And despite all that, I think I should take the job."

There. She'd said it. Her legs were threatening to give out, which did not bode well for her future career as a spy at Lionel Luthor's side, but the words were out. She wanted the job. She was going to take the job.

And then Clark shifted. For some reason, Martha's eyes were drawn to the toy truck in her son's hand, the one he was clutching as if his life depended it on. "Why?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

Martha swallowed. "Lionel has hurt our family, Clark. Many times. And we have no defenses. Yes, Lex, I know you try, but you're too close to the situation. Lionel is your father and you have a lot of issues with him. On top of that, he knows you too well."

Lex gave a strange sort of laughed and said, "So you're suggesting that you're better equipped to deal with my father?"

"In some cases, yes," she replied evenly. "A small part of you still wants his approval. I don't. He also can't blackmail me emotionally."

His eyes flared. "Oh, he can't? He ...."

"No. He can't." Then she shook her head. "I take that back. He can. But he won't. Because he won't think he has to. I'm certain your father isn't aware that Jonathan has told me about their past. And, since I do know, he can't use it to upset me. Besides, if anything, he'll be using me to get more information on my family, but he'll do it discreetly. At least at first. Meanwhile, I'll be using his questions, and my proximity to him to keep tabs on how close he's getting to my family."

There was a long silence. Martha gazed at her family calmly, sure she was right.

"You can't be serious," Jonathan finally said.

"I am."

Lex snorted slightly. "This is insane. You can't ... you don't know what type of man my father is."

"Of course I do, Lex. He's ruthless, heartless, and scrupulous. He won't hesitate to use anyone if he thinks he can gain something out of it. But everyone has weaknesses, and I think ... I think one of his might be he doesn't suspect me. At least not of keeping an eye on him and trying to use some of his own tactics against him. Look." She stepped away from the counter, eyes on her husband now. "I know this isn't anything you would have ever wanted me to do. And it isn't anything I would have ever wanted to do. But the truth is, Lionel has hurt us too much, and nothing we have done by just being good, honest people who play by the rules has helped. Lex, baby, you tried to protect Clark when Lionel took him away, but Lionel hurt him anyway."

Clark inhaled sharply, and looked up. "Mom ...."

"Clark." She crossed the room to him. "Honey, I don't know what Lionel did to you, but I know it still hurts you." Tentatively, she reached out and smoothed his hair back. "You didn't just run away because Whitney kissed you. I watched you withdraw for weeks before that, and even sometimes after. Maybe I should have said something to you, but I was waiting for you to come to me. I didn't know what to do. I felt like I'd failed you."

"No." Clark rose from his seat and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "No, Mom, you didn't."

Martha closed her eyes and held him tightly. "It's okay if you feel like I did, Clark. It's okay to be angry at me. I'm supposed to protect you. It's my job, and I fell down on it."

He pressed harder into her, arms vice-like around her. But he didn't say anything. Didn't tell her that it wasn't her fault, that he didn't blame her.

Her heart twisted inside her, and Martha had to fight back tears. Oh, God it hurt to know that a part of him blamed her for what happened. For not being strong enough or smart enough to protect him. And, worse, she'd let him suffer alone for months; she shouldn't have done that.

But she couldn't let him know she was hurt. Clark had to allow himself to be angry and hurt and tell her how he felt. It was the only way he'd truly heal.

Jonathan's arms wrapped around them. He kissed the top of her head. "It wasn't your fault, Clark," he said softly. "None of this was your fault."

Clark didn't answer. He did pull Lex into the embrace, though, and Martha slid one arm around him.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked, because even though she didn't want to know, Clark needed to feel as if he could tell her.

"He ... he cornered me. Tried to." Clark broke off and squeezed her tighter. She could feel his labored breath on her neck.

"It's okay, Clark." She pulled back little and stroked his hair. "You don't have to tell me."

"He was going to rape me," Clark said suddenly, voice dull. He turned his head so it was resting on her shoulder, facing away from her.

Jonathan released them, but began stroking Clark's back. He didn't look surprised, but, then, Martha had suspected he'd known.

She hadn't meant to cry, but the tears came anyway, sliding slowly down her face. "Oh, Clark. Baby, I'm ... I'm so sorry."

His arms twitched. "It wasn't your fault, Mom." He sniffed loudly, and she felt his tears dampen her shoulder.

"Clark. It's all right ...."

"It's all right if I blame you, I know." He lifted his head, eyes red and tears balancing on his lower eyelashes. "I don't want to."

"I know. But you shouldn't stop yourself from feeling what you feel."

Lex laughed softly, arms around Clark's waist. "That's what I'm always telling him." He kissed Clark's neck, and then rested his forehead against it.

With a shaky hand, Martha wiped some of the tears away. "I'm so sorry you had to live with this. Have to live with this. I wish there was something I could do."

"Don't hate me?" His voice cracked when he said the last, and more tears were unleashed.

Martha took him back into her arms. "Clark, this wasn't your fault, baby. You didn't do anything wrong. Lionel did this to you. He's the one I hate. And nothing, absolutely nothing is ever going to make me love you one bit less than I do."

"And you aren't going to look at him any differently either, are you," Lex said.

"Of course not."

Clark snorted slightly. "Thanks, Lex. And thanks, Mom." He sniffed and swiped his hand over his nose.

Lex lifted his head from Clark's neck and met her eyes. "Now you know. Will you be able to face Dad knowing what he did?"

"You're not still considering working for him," Jonathan said incredulously.

Martha swallowed and nodded, feeling shaky. "I am. Because I don't think he is going to leave us alone, and I want to be as prepared as we can be for whatever he tries next. Look, maybe I will be out of my league. And maybe I won't find out anything, but we have a better chance to be prepared if I work for him than if we ignore him. And if I turn him down, he'll get angry, and we know what he can do when he's angry."

"Yes, but Lionel plays dirty. Do you really think you can match him?"

"I don't know. But I have to try. And I won't do anything at first. Nothing but try to gain his trust. He might have offered me the job because he's toying with us again. But, then again, he might have done it because he genuinely thinks I'm the best for the job. When I go in, I'm going to pretend I only think it's the latter. All of us have to act like that, which means you, Lex, will have to do whatever you would normally do if he'd offered me this job."

Lex nodded. "I will. I'll do anything you want me to. I just want you to be careful."

"I will. I promise." She wiped Clark's face again. "Are you going to be okay?"

He nodded, still looking miserable. She noticed he was trembling, and knew it was going to take a lot more than spaghetti to make him feel comfortable again. "I'll be fine," he said hoarsely. "I'm just scared. I don't want you to get hurt. He .... Not for me."

"For my family, Clark. And I'm willing to risk anything for my family." She kissed him gently. "Why don't you go wash up? Lex, will you stay the night?"

Clark sighed. "Mom ...."

"Lex?"

"Sure, I can stay the night. Come on, Clark; you need to wash your face." He pulled Clark out of the kitchen.

Martha turned to Jonathan, feeling ill. "Is he okay?"

He nodded and took her into his arms. "He has his good days and bad. And he'll get better. He just needs support."

"How long have you known?"

"A few weeks. He was so upset, I didn't want to tell you." He sighed. "He's afraid we'll treat him differently, or think of him differently. Like he's afraid he's tainted. I've tried to assure him that we won't, but it's a hard thing to really believe, unfortunately." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

She squeezed back tears. "I understand. I just ... God, I wish I could go back and stop him. Not let it all happen. We let that man take out baby, and ...."

"Martha," Jonathan interrupted, voice firm. "It was not our fault. It wasn't our fault, it wasn't Lex's fault, it wasn't Clark's fault. Lionel did this."

"I know. I know." She pulled away and wiped her eyes. "Oh, God, how am I going to face him? I want to castrate him. I want ...."

"Then don't."

She shook her head and sighed. "I have to. Don't you understand?" She looked up at him.

Jonathan gazed down at her and stroked her hair gently. "Yes," he sighed. "I do. Just be careful, Martha. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Martha stepped into him and held him tightly. When his arms came around her, she felt safe, as if her world was a little more secure around her. "I will, Jonathan," she promised. "I won't let anything happen to me I promise."

________________________________________

There was a muffled crash, and then the sound of Clark swearing. Lex stirred and sat up, his back aching faintly from sleeping on his stomach in the middle of the Kents' living room. "Clark?" he said sleepily, sitting up.

"Go back to sleep, Lex. I just need to go out for a while."

He opened his eyes. Clark was shrugging into his jacket, looking at him. Lex could see he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and flannel, too, and felt his stomach lurch.

"Cold?"

Clark shrugged. "Actually, a little, yeah." He knelt on the nest to blankets they'd been sleeping on and leaned down.

Lex felt his forehead; it his surprise, it was cool to the touch. Not dramatically so, but much cooler than Clark normally felt. "Do you feel okay?"

"Yeah, I guess. Just cool." He smiled crookedly. "Guess I'm lucky, huh? The night I feel the need to be all covered, I'm actually cool enough to feel comfortable."

He wrapped his arms around Clark tightly. "Don't go, Clark. Just stay here. You've been through a lot tonight, and ...." He broke off when Clark pulled away from his embrace.

"I have to make sure she's okay. I won't take long, I promise." He kissed Lex's cheek. "Go back to sleep."

"Clark ...." He rose to his knees.

Clark paused at the front door. "I have to be alone for a while anyway, Lex," he said in a subdued voice. "It's kind of a lot to take in. It's just ... I haven't said it in a long time, and it never gets any easier." His voice quavered.

"I know, Clark."

Clark glanced at him briefly, and then opened the door. "Go back to sleep."

"I love you," Lex said, feeling as if Clark needed to hear it and feeling stupid for wanting it to make everything better.

His teeth gleamed faintly in the darkness, and it seemed as if some of the tension bled out of him. "I love you too, Lex." And then he was gone.

________________________________________

Lex had called her first thing in the morning, so Chloe was ready for Clark to come to school, looking like hell. The fact that he didn't get to school until after lunch didn't surprise her all that much; what did surprise her was that he arrived with Lana. Both of them were white-faced and upset, and Lana's eyes looked like they had a permanent coating of tears over them.

"We need your help," Clark said straight off.

For a moment Chloe actually thought that her ex and her best friend had bonded over their mutual experiences with sexual violation, and thought she was going to throw up. She could deal with them each one on one, but both at the same time was too much.

"His name is Byron Moore," Lana said in a rush. "The boy who wrote me the poem? We met him last night, and we think his parents are abusing him, but when we took the sheriff there this morning, they said he died. We don't know what's going on, and we were hoping you could help us?" She said the last hesitantly, as if realizing that asking someone she was currently fighting with to do this might not be the best idea.

Chloe took a deep breath and forced herself to smile. As confused as she was by Lana right now, she knew that she didn't want their friendship to end. The best way to start healing the breech on her end was to start acting like things were ... well, maybe not normal, but letting Lana know that Chloe was still open to helping her.

Besides, she wanted to keep Clark close, and if he was interested in this, she'd do anything she could to help.

"Repeat that again, only slower," she requested, sitting down at her desk.

Lana obeyed.

"Hmmm, ghosts in the graveyard, huh? Sounds like it's right up my alley." She flashed a smile, hoping that it looked normal to them. "I guess the place to start is with documentation of the death. Not that I don't believe that you met him, but if the parents are claiming that he's dead, they might have some sort of proof." She clicked on her bookmarks and pulled up the death reports for the state.

"Will it take long?" Lana asked anxiously, dancing from leg to leg.

"A few minutes."

"Okay. Uh, I'll be back in a second." Smiling wanly, she grabbed her purse and left the room quickly.

Chloe worked in silence a few minutes, trying to ignore the fact that Clark was curled on the couch, his legs pulled into his chest, eyes squeezed shut. He looked pale and tired. And oh so sad. Yes, he'd been depressed all through the months he and Lex had been broken up, but this was different. Painful and heart wrenching. It made Chloe want to cry.

Finally, she cleared her throat. "Lex told me that you and Lana stayed out all night last night."

"Oh?"

"Yes. And he told me about your mom."

He sighed, face scrunching up. "I don't see how this is any of your business."

"I would have known, Clark," she said softly. Since the computer was searching the files, and there was nothing she could do right now, she rose and went to the couch. "There's only one thing that makes you look like this. And I would have known."

"Look like what?" He opened his eyes.

"Defeated."

A tear slipped out of his eyes. "I thought I was over it. I thought I was okay. I should be okay. Damn it, what's wrong with me?" Furiously, he swiped at his eyes and squeezed them shut again.

Chloe stroked the side of his face gently, fingers burrowing in his hair. "Nothing is wrong with you. This isn't something you get over. It doesn't disappear. It's something that stays with you, and you have to learn to deal with your anger and hurt and confusion about it. Clark, you need help, okay? You need to talk to someone, someone who isn't Lex or me or Whitney. Someone with training."

"I can't," he whispered.

"Why not?"

Clark swallowed. "You wouldn't understand, Chloe. I just can't."

She frowned, trying to think of a way to phrase what needed to be said without saying anything she shouldn't. "Clark ... I know that you're embarrassed. And I'm sure you blame yourself for not ... for not fighting Lionel off. But that's normal. I mean, you didn't want to hurt him, because he's Lex's father, and you didn't know what to do because you were scared and confused. Vulnerable. No one blames you for not fighting."

"I can't talk about it with a stranger," he whispered.

Frustrated, Chloe rose and went to her desk. Inside was the stack of pamphlets she'd sent away for over the summer. She took one and went back to the couch. "But you don't seem to be able to really talk about it with people you know. Look, Lana called this center, and she said they were really nice. And easy to talk to."

With a heavy sigh, Clark opened his eyes and took the pamphlet. "You can't ask," he said, folding it.

"Can't ask what?"

"If I call them. And you can't push. I've read some, you know. I know that this has to be my decision, and if I want to tell you, I can. But you can't make me."

Chloe managed to smile slightly, glad that there was life back in his tone. "I won't ask." Her computer binged. "Got something." After hesitating a moment, Chloe leaned forward to place a kiss on Clark's forehead. To her surprise, he lifted his face, and her lips fell on his.

His face was dark red when she pulled back, embarrassed and flushed. Her lips were tingling from their collision that felt more like a kiss than a collision, but anything that would help her face Lex, right? And, oh God she'd just kissed Clark, and why did he do that?

"Sorry," Clark mumbled. He curled in on himself again, tucking his chin against his chest and rolling away from her.

"It's okay," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. He kissed her. Did that mean she cheated on Sydney again? No; it was an accident. The betrayal to Sydney would be that she wanted to do it again.

Lex was going to kill her.

"Uh," she cleared her throat. "Uh, why ... why did you do that?" She stroked his hair, trying to comfort him.

He shrugged. "Dunno. I just ... I needed it, you know?"

"Okay."

"I ... everyone keeps kissing me on the forehead or cheek or something, like I'm a kid. Like this happened to a little kid and everyone is trying to, I don't know. Comfort him. And I know that's what you're doing, but I'm not a kid." He laughed, but it sounded like a sob. "I'm being stupid."

"I, uh, I tried to kiss Whitney after what happened to me," Lana said from the door.

Clark shot up so fast that his head connected with Chloe's, knocking her to the floor. Her head spun and Lana was at her side before everything really registered in her mind.

"You okay?" Lana asked.

"Yeah," she gasped. Her head was pounding, but she tried to force that aside.

Clark was standing in the corner, pressed behind the couch. He looked as if he were about to explode, and his eyes were squeezed shut tightly.

Lana rose and approached him slowly. "I was in a weird place, you know? On the one hand, I didn't want anyone to touch me. I hated myself because I knew I'd seduced Chloe, but I couldn't really accept it. And then, I couldn't tell anyone, so Nell and Whitney both just thought I'd gotten into a fight with her. They kept, yeah, they kept sort of treating me like a kid. The same gentle, hesitant touches and kisses on the cheek. Like that would make the pain go away."

"That's not what they're doing," Clark said. "They're trying to let me know they're there."

"And it's good that you know that. But it doesn't stop you from feeling like you're being talked down to. And I ... I needed to know that Whitney might still find me attractive, but not, you know, push. I don't know." Lana sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Like I said, I was in a weird place." She bit her lip and threw a scared looked back at Chloe.

All Chloe could do was shrug.

"Clark," Lana said softly. "I'm sorry."

Clark put his hand in front of his eyes, silent. When it fell, his eyes were open and dry. "Thanks."

Chloe frowned; they seemed to be talking about a lot more than what was going on in the room. She watched as Lana held out her hand and, after a slight hesitation, Clark took it.

He smiled and squeezed her hand. Stepping out of the corner, he looked at Chloe. "Are you okay?"

"I think so." She allowed Clark to help her to her feet. On impulse, she brushed lips with him again, and then pulled away, smiling impishly.

Clark rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't you be working on our case?"

"Oh, now you're all official. Our case," she teased. "One death certificate for Byron Moore, coming up." She smiled happily as she sat down. Some semblance of normal had been reached, at least. With any luck, perhaps it would hold.

________________________________________

"Someone in this hospital needed a PlayStation 2. Do you have any idea where I could find him?" Chloe asked as she entered Pete's room.

He laughed and raised his bed. "If you don't mind, I'd rather you just leave it here. I'm dying for some entertainment."

Chloe smiled at him and placed the box she was carrying on a chair underneath the television. "How long are you staying here, anyway?" She sat on the edge of his bed.

"I'm getting released tomorrow afternoon. Just in time to miss going to the club with you and Clark."

"This'll teach me ever to do research for Clark again. If it wasn't for me, you'd be safe at home."

He snorted. "Yeah, right. With Clark around, no one is safe. Somehow I'm always getting roped into these crazy things that get me thrown across the room."

She laughed. "Yeah, maybe you should learn to say no sometimes. It's really easy; just a one syllable word."

"Yeah, I'll learn that the day you learn to turn down an exclusive."

"Ah, well then maybe you should book a room here." She sighed.

"Sorry about having to miss the club."

"Don't worry about it. We'll go some other time."

Pete frowned. "Wait; you're still going, right?"

"Naw, I think it's a wash. Clark's upset, and neither of us would want to make you feel left out or anything."

"No, Chloe, it's cool." He shifted, wincing slightly as he did. "I think you and Clark should still go. I mean, the only thing I'm going to be doing is lying in bed, whacked out on pain medication. You don't need to hang around for that."

"Pete ...."

"Look. I know I don't get included in your and Clark's love lives all that much, being the only straight guy and all, but even I can see there's something going on between you and Lana right now. And I sort of get the feeling you're dying to get away and see Sydney. Right?"

Chloe felt herself blushing. "How's you guess?"

"Well, for starters, you've been writing Sydney and Lana's names in your notes all week, with big question marks next to both their names. I'm not the most clued in guy, but there are hints, and then there are big neon signs." He shrugged and smiled.

She returned the smile. "Yeah. You're right, Pete. I do really want to see Sydney this weekend."

"What's going on?"

"Well, I thought there was a possibility of Lana and me getting back together, but now I don't think so." Chloe sighed. "I don't know. Maybe Lana's right. Maybe if I really wanted to be with her, I'd just accept her the way she is."

"Why? What do you want her to do?"

"Pay more attention to me. Make me feel as if I weren't second best in the relationship, but that we were equals."

Pete frowned. "That sounds reasonable."

"But it didn't come out that way. She thought I was accusing her of being selfish and self-absorbed. Which, maybe in the end, I was. I didn't mean to, but ... I love her. I want to be with her. But, I guess, I'm just not ready to give up Sydney. But I want to go hang out with Sydney this weekend just to make sure that she's who I really want to be with." Chloe sighed and moved so she could stretch out next to Pete. "You know what? I think you have the right idea, Pete. Date around, don't spend too much time with one girl, don't get too attached."

Pete lay next to her, putting his good arm around her. "I don't know. I wouldn't mind staying with one girl for longer than three weeks. But, maybe you are right. You and Clark go through so much heartbreak. I guess I'm fine putting it off for a few more years."

Chloe smiled at him, and then rested her head on his shoulder.

"I want you to have fun this weekend. Go to the club, dance your heart out, and then come and give me all the details, all right?"

"Are you sure?"

"If you're really my friend, you'd do this for me."

Chloe smiled and nodded. "Well. For our friendship, I guess I'll do it."

Pete grinned. "Good."

________________________________________

"I just talked to your mom," Lex said from the top of the stairs. "She told me what happened with you and Byron."

Clark turned. "Oh."

"Are you okay?" He crossed the room and sat on the couch across from Clark.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Mom's fine too. So's your dad."

His lips twitched. "I know Dad's fine. Actually, he seems quite taken with your mom. He's lucky he's injured, or else I'd have to kill him. But you're not allowed to kill an injured man." He reached out and gently touched Clark's cheek.

Clark's eyes slid shut and he leaned into the caress. "I really wish that your dad wasn't the one taking care of Byron. I know Mom meant well when she devised whatever plan she did to get him to, but I'd feel better if Dr. Sutton was on the case."

"I know. But what's done is done. I'll just have to get a spy in there to keep an eye on what's going on." He moved closer and pulled Clark into him. "How are you doing?"

Clark sighed and settled against him. "I'm okay. Not great." He sighed again and snaked his arms around Lex. "I forget, you know? How it feels sometimes. Like, I forget--well, not forget, but put it aside for days and stuff, and then something brings it all up again, and I feel horrible."

Lex leaned back so he was reclined on the couch, Clark on top of him. "I know," he said, stroking Clark's back. "Just like anything, you have your good days and your bad days. But now that your mom knows, you don't have to worry about her finding out. You don't have to worry about it hurting you. It's out in the world, and we all can deal with it."

"Yeah." He sniffed and burrowed closer. "I kissed Chloe today."

"What?"

"Kissed Chloe. On the mouth. I don't know why, I just did."

Lex swallowed, feeling a little cold. God. If this was how he reacted to Clark kissing one of his closest friends when he was in pain, how was he going to reach if Clark was ever seriously attracted to anyone else?

He lifted his head. "Are you mad?"

"Not mad. Jealous. Of both of you." He smiled. "You are my boyfriend, and she's sexy. I wouldn't mind kissing you both. Of course, I do get to kiss you, so I'm halfway there, at least." He hesitated before asking, "You're not ...."

"No. It was just a kiss. She was trying to comfort me, and when she went to kiss my forehead, I kissed her instead. That's all."

"Well, at least I know now why she's been calling me every ten minutes." He laughed. "I mean besides the fact she wanted to make sure I got you clothes for this weekend."

Clark's eyes darkened. "I don't know if I want to go."

He'd been expecting this, and had spent the day trying to come up with something to say when Clark balked at going into the city that weekend. Of course, now it all sounded trite and stupid. Worse, Lex didn't want to force him to do anything, or feel as if he were being forced.

So, stroking Clark's hair, he said, "Why not?"

"I just ... I'm not in the mood. That's all."

"Don't you think it'd be nice to get out of Smallville for a little bit? Even just for a night?"

"Lex," Clark sighed.

"I'm serious. A change of scene might do you good. You deserve to go out and have fun with people your age. And not the people from around here who have you pigeonholed; I mean people who don't know you, in a place you don't go often. You'll have fun, Clark."

Clark rested his forehead on Lex's chest. "It's just that I was nervous before, and now I'm even more so. I feel all ... exposed."

"That's why I think you should leave town for the weekend. Go where people don't know you, and aren't expecting you to fall apart at any second. Okay, yes, you'll be with Chloe, but she'd gotten used to dealing with this. And she's generally pretty good, right? She doesn't treat you with kid gloves unless you need it."

"Yeah. I guess."

"I'll only be a mental call away. I'd go to town, but Dominic's coming down to do the Talon's books and I need to distract Dad. I can send Mabel or Doctor Sutton to the penthouse if you like, and you can call them if ...."

"No," Clark interrupted, lifting his head. "No. I'll be fine. Nothing's going to happen." He smiled slightly, although the smile wavered.

Lex threaded his fingers through Clark's hair and kissed him. "No. Nothing you won't be able to handle will happen."

________________________________________

It was Saturday night, and Lana was serving drinks when Mr. Walters came into the Talon. There was man with dark blond hair right beside him, his hand resting on the back of Mr. Walters' wheelchair as if he were afraid of letting Mr. Walters get too far away. They were both casually dressed, which was weird because Lana had never seen Mr. Walter's wear anything but a suit and tie. Of course, the she never saw him unless he was working, but it was still odd.

Hanging the now empty tray by her leg, she went over to them, her stomach twisting nervously. "Hi."

Mr. Walters nodded at her and smiled very slightly. "Ms. Lang. This is Dominic Senatori. He's here to look over the accounting."

"Yes, Lex told me you were coming. I wasn't sure what to do, so I just put everything in the office upstairs. The computer's on if you needed to use it."

"Is there a password?" Mr. Senatori asked.

Lana blinked. "Um, I don't think so."

"If there is one, do you know what it might be?"

She shook her head, feeling stupid.

Mr. Senatori simply nodded. "I see."

Mr. Walters looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. "Will you be all right?"

"I'll be fine," Mr. Senatori said to him. "This is Nell Potter we are talking about; anything she learned, I'm sure Lionel taught her. It won't be difficult."

"Very well. I'll be down here." There was a sort of self-deprecating smile on his face when he said it, and Lana suddenly felt intensely bad that there was no elevator in the Talon for Mr. Walters to use to get to the second floor.

Mr. Senatori nodded and then went upstairs. Lana smiled weakly at Mr. Walters, feeling acutely uncomfortable. "Can I get you something?" she asked.

"A tall mint tea, if you please."

"Coming right up." She turned and went back to the counter, aware that Mr. Walters was following her.

The tea was made quickly and taken to the table that he'd chosen, which was right next to the counter. She got the feeling that he was watching her, and didn't know why. Maybe he was wondering why she'd betrayed her aunt like this. For the hundredth time, Lana wondered if she'd done the right thing. After all, she wasn't positive there was anything wrong with the books; it was just all the numbers were off. And it could be Lana's numbers that were wrong, not Nell's. Or numbers that were changed later due to errors they'd both made.

And that wasn't the only thing that bothered Lana. When she'd discovered the discrepancies, she'd called Lex first, not her aunt. She'd tried to brush it off by telling herself that both Lex and Nell had her trained to consult Lex about money first. For some reason, Nell was hardly ever available to help Lana close out, or place orders, or answer her questions, and Lex was.

Except, that excuse felt wrong. Lana was afraid the real reason she'd called Lex was because she was still angry at Nell first for bringing Dean into their lives, and then for trying to foist her off as a surrogate daughter. She didn't want to be some stranger's daughter; she wanted to continue to be Lana Lang, daughter of Laura and Lewis Lang. Dean was ... fine. But that didn't mean Lana had to like him.

She sighed and finished making the tea. What was done, was done, and she couldn't change it now. Lex had made her promise not to tell Nell about what was going on until Lex found out what was wrong. Which Lana decided was reasonable; after all, no one had told Lex anyone was stealing from him. Why should she tell Nell she'd been caught.

"Here you are, Mr. Walters. Did you want anything else?" Lana asked as she set his drink on the table.

"No, thank you, Ms. Lang. This will do for now."

"Um, you can call me Lana. Ms. Lang feels ... weird," she said, brushing her hands on her apron.

"Very well." He sipped the tea, and then reached for the sugar.

Lana twisted her hands slightly and asked, "What is Lex going to do if Nell is ... you know."

"Skimming money from his business?" Damien raised his eyebrow at her.

"It's our business. We're partners."

"Ah, yes. That, of course, makes it all right."

"No. I just ... it's not all his money." Lana sighed. "But it's still stealing. What he will do?"

"I'm not sure. Probably nothing at first. Not until we know why."

Lana frowned. "Uh, why? I mean, wouldn't it be just because she wanted money or something?"

Mr. Walter's shrugged. "Perhaps. But, well, there's more going on in your aunt's life that, perhaps, it's best you were kept out of."

"Does this have to do with Dean?"

"Is that her fiancee?"

"Yeah."

"In a way, I suppose. You aunt has had a standing arrangement with Lionel Luthor for some years and she seems to be attempting to end it."

She inhaled sharply, taking aback by his words. "Arrangement" sounded awfully like they'd been doing business, and Lana knew that they'd been lovers. At least, she'd thought they'd been. Unless Nell was .... No. That was impossible. "What are you saying about my aunt?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Damien said mildly. "Except that, for many years, she has had a relationship with Lionel. I am, however, unaware of the type of relationship."

"They were friends. Maybe lovers."

"And, perhaps, in business. Well, not together, of course. Nell does own quite a bit of stock in Luthor Corp, and he has helped finance her businesses both in Smallville and in other towns. So, whatever their relationship, it wasn't strictly anything. It was business and pleasure, and now she is trying to get out, and Mr. Luthor--Lex--wants to know why and how."

"Why does he care?"

Mr. Walter's smiled very slightly. "Because knowledge is power, as the saying goes. And Mr. Luthor needs to know everything about his father he possibly can."

Lana raised an eyebrow. "Then why isn't he here?"

"Because he is trying to keep his father from finding out what's going on here. It may not be important to Lionel, but one can never tell."

"I don't ... I don't understand. It's just a coffeehouse. I mean, it's important to me, but it's not worth Lionel's attention."

"But it is your aunt and his son's business, and, therefore, it is very much worth his attention. Ms. Lang ... Lana, I know you don't understand the ins and outs of all of this, and you don't need to. Just imagine this to be a war, much like your war last year with the Beanery. Only the stakes are higher here, and this business is only one playing piece."

Lana frowned. She knew that the Talon was only a side pursuit for Lex, but this was her life.

"Do I need to understand?" she finally asked.

"No. Not at all."

"Good. I don't think I want to. Excuse me." Lana smiled faintly to be polite and went back to the counter.

She hated all of this. The political maneuvering of it all. The one time she'd done it with the Beanery, it had made her feel dirty and cheap. Now, to realize that her aunt might do it all the time .... Well, not all the time. But she had the sneaking suspicion that Nell did it a lot.

Maybe she was even doing it now.

That thought stopped Lana. Oh, God. What if Nell was using Dean to get away from Lionel? Not that Lana could really understand why Nell might need to "get away," and why she couldn't just tell Lionel their relationship--whatever it was--was over, but it almost made sense. Nell and Dean had met in July, but it wasn't until after Nell had gone to Metropolis to see Lionel one weekend that they started dating seriously.

Did that mean Nell was using Lana too?

"Stop it," she told herself sternly.

See? This was the problem with political business stuff. Once you started thinking about, you saw conspiracies everywhere. It was silly, and stupid, and a total waste of time.

Resolved not to worry about it anymore, Lana turned back to her work. "Pete!" she exclaimed, smiling when she saw him walking up. "I didn't expect you to be out of the house today. How are you?"

Pete smiled and shrugged. He looked a little wan as he climbed onto one of the stools, careful of his sling. "I'm okay, I guess. Mom's getting a movie for me and she said I could run in here until she's done."

"Can I get you anything? On the house, of course."

"Just a hot chocolate, thanks."

She smiled. "Coming right up." She quickly made the drink, watching him at the counter as he closed his eyes and rubbed them. He was probably still in pain from being thrown, and she wondered why he was here at all. If it were her, she'd be at home right now, under the covers, sleeping. "Here you go." Lana set the drink in front of him and shook the can of whipped cream. "Tell me when to stop, okay?"

"Go for it, baby."

She grinned and emptied about half the can before he finally told her that was enough.

"Man, Lana, you are a goddess."

Lana flushed and said, "It was the least I could do."

"Naw, it's not." He sampled a little cream and said, keeping his eyes down, "I can see why Chloe loves you so much."

Ah. Of course he would not only know, but be here to talk about Chloe. The way the three of them always stuck up for each other made her insanely jealous. Just once, Lana would like to have a friend like that.

"Yeah, well. It's not enough," Lana said. She put the can away.

"Look, Lana, I know it's none of my business, but ...."

"No, Pete, it's not any of your business."

"But Chloe is my friend," he finished as if she hadn't spoken. "And sometimes, even when she means well, or even when she has something important to say, her foot winds up planted firmly in her mouth and it all sounds wrong."

Lana frowned. "So?"

"So, maybe you're angry at her because she wasn't able to tell you what was bothering her clearly."

"And you're here to clear it up." It was a statement and not a question, and Lana couldn't wait to hear the response.

Pete nodded, his face set and determined. "Yeah, if I can. So, tell me what happened."

"What?"

"Tell me what happened when she said whatever it was she said that got you all angry at her."

Lana sighed and looked around the Talon. No one was paying attention to them; Mr. Walters was drinking his tea and reading, and everyone else had drinks or was being helped by the other workers. "Okay," she said, turning back to Pete. "She came in and told me she wasn't happy with our relationship. That she felt we weren't equals, and that I didn't like her as much as she liked me. She said that I never had any time for her, and I made her feel like I didn't even know that she existed."

Pete was silent a moment, his eyebrows lowered. "Okay," he said. "Okay, I can see how you can take all that wrong. I mean, somebody tells that to me, I'd be pretty defensive too."

"It wasn't that I was defensive. Okay, I was, but I felt like she was attacking me."

"No, she wasn't. Look, Chloe is tough and, well, bossy. And she comes off really strong sometimes. So you need to learn to read between the lines with her."

"I wouldn't have had to if she had just told me this when we were going out. Yes, we still would have broken up because of ... well. You know. But this problem that we're having now, I could have been working on it."

Pete shrugged. "Then why don't you work on it now?"

Lana bit her lip and frowned. She'd thought on over the last few days, and come to a conclusion. "I am. Because I figure that if I do it with her, I do it with other people. With Clark and with Whitney. So, maybe, it is something I need to work on. I just don't know if I want to work on it for her. I want to do it for me."

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea, but why can't you be with her and work on it?"

"Well, for one, I don't want to have to compete with Sydney."

"Trust me, there is no competition between you and her. Chloe's totally in love with you."

Lana raised her eyebrow. "Pete, have you seen pictures of Sydney? She's gorgeous."

"So are you," Pete exclaimed. "Lana, you are the most beautiful girl in Smallville, hands down. And you're ten times prettier than Sydney."

"Sydney has breasts and big blue eyes and blond hair and ..."

"And you have beautiful eyes and fantastic hair and wonderful skin and have Sydney beat in the looks department. You're gorgeous, Lana. But it's not about that. She loves you, not Sydney. If you asked her to come back ...."

"I did, Pete," Lana interrupted, feeling flushed. It'd been a long time since anyone had praised her looks so effusively. Clearing her throat, and trying not to fall for him just because he was paying attention to her, she said, "That's what this whole fiasco was all about: me trying to get Chloe back. Instead, I was thrust in front of a mirror and shown my flaws. So I think that maybe I should work on them for a while. And, if in the process, Chloe decides she wants to be with me, that's great. If not, at least I'll have made myself a better person, right?"

Pete smiled and put his hand over hers. "Right," he said softly, squeezing it.

She smiled back, blushing. "Uh," she said after a moment, eyes flicking to the entrance, "Your mom's here."

He glanced back. "Ah, perfect timing. I'll see you Monday."

"Take care of yourself. No flying through any more windshields, okay?"

"You got it." He picked up his hot chocolate and left.

"Lana?"

"Yes, Mr. Walters?"

Mr. Senatori was downstairs again, looking pleased. His hand was on the back of the wheelchair again, only now Lana could see his fingers were brushing very lightly--almost accidentally--against Mr. Walters' neck.

"We've found what we need, and we are going to go now."

Lana nodded and licked her lips. "So, what did you find?"

They glanced at each other.

"There is a problem, and your books are correct, not the real ones," Mr. Senatori said.

"I don't suppose I have to ask you not to inform your aunt of our visit," Mr. Walters said.

She sighed and shook her head. "No, Mr. Walters, you don't need to tell me."

"Very good. Dominic? Did you want a drink?"

"No, thank you." He pulled out some money and paid for Damien's tea. "Good evening."

"Bye."

Lana watched as Mr. Walters pulled away, Mr. Senatori following. Once again, it looked as if Mr. Senatori was playing with the hair at the nape of Mr. Walters' neck. They looked ... sweet. And in love.

An intense wave of longing hit Lana. She missed Chloe. Missed having someone in general, feeling special and part of another person's life. Byron had been a little creepy, yes, and Clark obviously wasn't the one for her. Chloe made her feel safe and comfortable and scared and excited and loved, but if Lana didn't make Chloe feel the same way, what was the point?

She sighed heavily and rested her head on the bar. She would do what she told Pete: work on being more supportive of other people and taking the attention off her safe. With any luck, it would be enough and, eventually, she and Chloe could have their happily ever after, or whatever two women in love could have.

________________________________________

"He's adorable," Sydney told Chloe, looking over Clark with narrowed eyes. "Absolutely adorable. I'll never forgive you for hiding him in Smallville for so long."

Clark squirmed under the scrutiny, unsure if he was being complimented or being prepared for dissection. He was sitting on the bed in Chloe's aunt's guest room, playing the part of Sydney and Chloe's doll. At least they'd allowed him to dress himself, thank God, although Chloe had insisted on seeing what Clark was planning to wear before he'd been allowed to do so.

"Your boyfriend has the best taste," she'd said gleefully, and Clark couldn't contradict her. Lex had gone to Metropolis the other day for a meeting and, afterwards, he'd gone shopping for Clark. He was beginning to wonder if Lex didn't have some sort of shopping addiction or something. But, the clothes were very nice: a clingy, long-sleeved green shirt and low slung black jeans that hugged his ass. He had to admit, it did look good on him.

After doing a check on his clothes, Chloe had sent him off to the bathroom to dress. When he'd returned, Sydney had sat him on the bed and pulled out gel, hair spray, eye liner, glitter, and a brush.

"Wait a second," Clark had protested, but she and Chloe had shushed him and set to work.

And now, here he was. Sitting on the bed with two women in tight, revealing clothing examining him with expressions of clinical detachment.

"I've been trying to keep him safe from the adoring masses," Chloe said. "He doesn't realize how cute he is, and if he did, it would ruin him for life."

Sydney laughed and brushed Clark's hair back from his face. "Bring him back down for Halloween. We'll do ... I'd really like to see him in horns, you know? Horns and big, black wings that match his hair. No shirt, of course. Maybe ... straps of some sort, here." Sydney stepped closer to him and ran her hands in a criss-cross fashion over his chest. "And then black pants and boots. Maybe leather." She sighed and tilted he head. "Clark, can I photograph you sometime?"

He flushed and ran his hand over the side of his head. It came away with flecks of glitter on it. "Uh ... I don't know."

"It's only so I can expand my portfolio, that's all. And you'd look great on film. Please?"

"Maybe," he said nervously. "Uh, can I look in the mirror?"

"Of course." Sydney stepped aside, allowing Clark to rise and go to the mirror.

It wasn't as bad as he'd expected it to be. There was only a small amount of glitter in his hair, so little that it was only noticeable when the light caught it. His hair was brushed back from his face, curls gelled and styled. The eyeliner--which had been on under heavy protestation--was the same color green as Clark's shirt, which explained why Sydney had all but squealed when she saw it and ran for her make-up bag. The combined colors of the shirt and liner made Clark's eyes stand out and seem more green than normal. The shirt hugged Clark's body, and the jeans felt as if they'd been sewn on.

"You look great, Clark," Chloe said. She touched his arm gently and looked up at him. He could tell she was worried about him, but was trying valiantly to treat him like normal.

He appreciated the effort. Forcing a smile, he slid his arm around her waist. "Thanks. So you do you."

She really did. Chloe was wearing a crimson crop top that revealed a lot of cleavage. Her skirt was black and went to her knees with slits up the side. The ensemble was completed with a pair of calf-high boots, dangling black earrings that went to the middle of her neck, a necklace that rested in her cleavage, and a headband that matched her top.

Chloe blushed. "Thanks." She pulled away from Clark and moved closer to the mirror to reapply her lipstick.

Sydney came up behind her and kissed her on the neck. "She does look fantastic. But then, I'd expect nothing less from my girlfriend." Her arms wrapped around Chloe's waist. "Course, you'd look good in a trash bag, too."

She laughed. "Thanks, Sydney." She turned and kissed her gently.

"Ready to go?" Sydney asked when she'd pulled away from Chloe.

"I am," Clark said, trying to mean it. The truth was, he was regretting that he'd let Lex talk him into coming. He wasn't feeling up to this right now; all he wanted to do was go home, climb into his hammock, and read. But, no. He was here, dressed up, and getting ready to go to a club.

Chloe was putting her lipstick into an incredibly tiny purse. "I'm ready. Let's go ask Aunt Ellen if she's ready."

Sydney sighed. "I still don't understand why we have to be driven there. I mean, all of us can drive, and I thought all of us could be trusted."

"I know," Chloe soothed as they walked to the front room. "It sucks. But Dad worries. He feels better if we're taking there and back by an adult." She smiled and poked Sydney in the ribs. "At least we're all allowed to go, right?"

"Right," Sydney said, but she still seemed pouty.

The club was about twenty blocks away. Traffic was light and the lights were kind, so they got their quickly, pulling in front of the busy building.

"The club closes at midnight," Sydney told Ellen.

"I'll try to get here a little before then, but you don't need to come out until it's closed. I'll be waiting out front for you no matter where I park," Ellen replied. "And call if you want to come home earlier. I'll be home all night."

"We will. Thanks Aunt Ellen," Chloe said. She closed the car door and waved.

Ellen pulled away and drove off into the Metropolis night.

"The Tornado," Clark read, looking at the flickering, neon sign hanging outside.

Sydney made a face. "Yeah, I know. I don't know who named it, but trust me, it's not that bad."

She and Chloe made for the door while Clark stood still, looking at the tornado above the sign, its yellow eyes blinking at him, and mouth grinning just a bit too widely.

"Clark," Chloe said. "Come on. Or did your last brush with a tornado scare you off for good?" There was a teasing smiling on her face.

Clark tore his eyes away from it and followed them into the club. As soon as he set foot inside, Clark winced. The club was deafening: music blaring, people shouting to be heard over the music. The air seemed thick and heavy, pressing around Clark. He knew that it probably wasn't all that loud in the club; the problem was that he was nervous and nervousness always made his hearing kick up a few notches. It helped at home, sometimes, like when he was doing things he shouldn't be doing. Or doing things it was okay to do, but he didn't want his parents to walk in. Or when he was doing things he was only supposed to do at Lex's, only they were at the farm, and he didn't want his parents to find out.

It didn't help pretty much any other time. Because, really, when you were taking an important exam, it wasn't helpful to be able to hear the tick of the clock, your neighbor's stomach rumble, and every scratch of every pencil in the room. And here. He was nervous to begin with, and now the sounds in the room were almost overwhelming.

Clark stopped inside the doors and closed his eyes. It was too much, almost as much as a memory cascade. He could feel his chest constricting so he started doing his breathing exercises. He didn't even think about, just slipped right into them and began breathing slowly and rhythmically.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" Chloe sounded worried, so Clark forced himself to open his eyes.

"Uh ... it's loud."

A crease between her eyebrows formed. "Loud? Are you okay? Can you ...." She hesitated, as if unsure what to say.

He took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. "I'll be okay. Can we get a drink?"

"Of course." Chloe laced her fingers through Clark's and pulled him through the maze of people to the bar. "One Coke and one Sprite, please," she ordered, throwing a glance at Clark.

He nodded and closed his eyes again. The throbbing seemed to be worming itself inside his ears, making his temples pulse.

"Hey, what's going on?" Sydney asked.

"It's loud," Chloe explained. She pressed something into Clark's free hand. "And I haven't had enough sugar, so I thought we'd get drinks. Do you want one?"

"As many as I can get. Proceeds go to charity. I'll have a Mountain Dew."

Clark opened his eyes and sipped his drink. "Are they ... uh, are they serving anything besides soda?" he asked, trying like not to seem like a total dork.

Sydney nodded. "Yeah, they are. But I thought I'd warm up with a lot of caffeine. You know, so I have lots of energy for dancing." She nodded at the dance floor.

Clark glanced at it, still sipping his Coke. The mass of writhing people did nothing to make him any less nervous.

"I can't dance," he said, turning away.

"Neither can any of them," Chloe said. She squeezed his hand, which Clark realized she was still holding. "It's easy, Clark. Just like Homecoming. You go out, bounce around, and have fun. No one cares that you can't dance."

"But ...."

"Look at it this way," Sydney interrupted. "No one knows you, so what does it matter? Chloe and I already think you're too cute for words, so if you can't dance, it'll just make you even more adorable than you were before. Don't worry about it."

Clark nodded, knowing that she was right, and yet he couldn't just dismiss his nervousness. He drained his Coke and closed his eyes again. His hearing was finally going back to normal, and the oppressiveness was fading. Clark hadn't realized he'd been feeling so closed in until the walls receded around him.

When he opened his eyes again, Chloe was chatting with Sydney and a guy with bright red hair. She'd let go of Clark's hand, but her foot was hooked around his ankle, as if she were afraid to drop contact with him.

"Can I get another Coke, please?" he asked the bartender. Then he turned.

The red-haired guy was looking at him through beautiful hazel eyes. He smiled when Clark made eye contact.

Clark smiled back, feeling embarrassed. What if the guy thought he was weird or something? But, then, everyone thought he was weird, so what did it matter?

"Here you go," the bartender said, sliding a Coke in front of Clark.

"Thanks." Clark paid and leaned forward so he could be part of the conversation.

"Clark, this is Aaron," Sydney said when she noticed Clark's eyes were open again. "He hangs out at the center and occasionally volunteers when it looks like there might be a chance to hook up with a cute guy."

"Hey," he protested playfully. "I'm not like that. I'm all about the greater good, Syd, you know that."

"Oh, yeah, the greater good. As long as the greater refers to ...." She mimed something could only be interpreted as a huge cock and then pretended to suck it. "And it's good," she finished with a smirk.

Clark felt his face flame. He looked away from Sydney and took a long drink of his Coke, trying to hide his embarrassment. It wasn't that he didn't think as dirty as the next person; he just, somehow, didn't talk dirty with anyone but guys. Well, Lex.

"Thanks, Sydney. Why don't you just make me look like a promiscuous slut," Aaron said. When Clark looked up, Aaron winked at him.

"Sorry, Aaron. But you know it's true."

"I take the fifth. Anyway," he said loudly, as Sydney opened her mouth again, "why don't we hit the dance floor? Have some fun." Again, his eyes landed on Clark.

Chloe looked back at Clark. "You up for it?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, even though his hearing was still a little sensitive. He finished his Coke and set it on the bar.

She grinned. "I'm ready to dance." She took both Clark and Sydney's hand.

Aaron grinned. "Great! Let's go." He took Sydney's free hand and headed out to the dance floor.

Heart picking up as Aaron's eyes locked on Clark, he followed the train to the floor. This was supposed to be fun, he reminded himself. Fun. It didn't matter if he had no rhythm and he was just sort of moving jerkily to the music. Aaron didn't seem to mind as he enthusiastically bounced all over the place. Clark didn't have to worry about talking, or thinking, or even if Aaron was getting the wrong impression. Once they were on the dance floor, it didn't seem to matter who was dancing with whom. Everyone was just sort of moving to the music, bouncing along, doing their own thing.

After a few songs, Clark realized that he was having fun. The music, though still loud, had gone back to a normal range, and a lot of good looking guys and girls were rotating around him. Everyone once in a while, he found himself dancing with someone instead of near them, but that was fine. It was just ... dancing. Even Aaron, who was dancing the closest to him, and kept looking at him through flirty eyes, would only stay a few minutes before turning to dance in another direction.

Clark grinned. His pulse was pounding, he was wearing glitter and eyeliner, and he was doing something he'd never done before. For the first time in over a year--maybe his whole life--Clark felt normal.

"Hey!" Aaron shouted after they'd been out there for quite some time. His hairline was damp with sweat, and face glistening. "Do you want to get a drink?"

He shot a frightened look at Chloe, who just smiled at him encouragingly. "Uh ... sure," he replied after a moment. His throat was dry.

Aaron grinned and grabbed Clark's hand, leading him across the room. "So, you're from Smallville, right?"

"Yeah."

"What's it like?"

"Uh ... small. Lots of farms."

"Oh?" Aaron cocked his head. "Do you live on one?"

He smiled, embarrassed as the went to the bar. "Yeah, I do."

"Cool! Like sheep and chickens and stuff? Virgin margarita," he ordered.

"The same. And no sheep." The bartender gave Clark a strange look, which sent Aaron into hysterics. Blushing, Clark shook his head, "I was talking to him."

"I know. I'm just trying to figure out what the two of you could be talking about doing that required you to specify that you didn't want sheep," the bartender replied, face straight. Then he winked at Clark and turned to make the drink.

Aaron nudged Clark with his shoulder. "Dude, I think he likes you. How old are you, anyway?"

He blushed harder. "You mean am I young enough to be here?"

"No, I mean, like, are you old enough to hook up with him without getting him in trouble?"

"Uh ... I'm sixteen, so ... not really? And I'm seeing someone, so ... no."

Aaron made a face. "Figures you're seeing someone. But you're only sixteen?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

"Eighteen next month." He sighed and looked longingly at the bartender. "He's just got such a nice ass, you know?"

Clark looked, which, of course, was when he decided to turn back around. When he saw Clark checking him out, he grinned and ran his eyes over Clark.

"This one's on me," he said, setting the drink in front of Clark.

"Cool!" Aaron crowed.

"Not you, shorty. Pay up." He kept his eyes on Clark. "I'm Craig."

"Clark."

"Isn't there a rule that you can't hit on the kids here?" Aaron asked sulkily as he pulled out his money

Craig smiled, still looking at Clark. "No, not especially. I'm twenty-two, and as long as I don't have sex with a minor, I'm fine. You're not a minor, right Clark?"

Clark felt his cheeks flame and looked down at his drink. "I'm sixteen."

"Holy fuck. You're kidding."

He shook his head.

Craig sighed. "Damn. Damn, damn. But, wait, didn't I see you at the Gecko last month?"

Clark's eyes went wide and his head snapped up. "Uh ... uh ...."

"I swear I bought you a drink"

Oh, shit. "I thought you looked a little familiar." Oh, God, why couldn't the earth just swallow him now?

Aaron climbed onto one of the bar stools and leaned in, looking fascinated. "You snuck into a club? Wow. I guess that wholesome demeanor is all an act."

"No. I mean ... I mean ...." He couldn't breathe. He was going to die. "Okay, yeah, I snuck into the club."

"They didn't check your ID?" Craig asked.

Had they? Clark couldn't .... "I bribed the bouncer," he remembered. He'd borrowed about a thousand dollars from Lex's safe at the penthouse.

"With the money you got from your golden goose?" Aaron guessed.

"No. I got the money from my b- from my friend." He smiled weakly. "He kind of has money."

"So, you're only sixteen, you sneak into regular clubs, but you're still here?" Craig asked. His fingers brushed over the back of Clark's hand lightly.

Clark bit his lip and pulled away. "Um, it was kind of a one shot thing. I was upset."

"Bout what?" Aaron was now swinging his legs under the bar.

"Boyfriend troubles. That's all."

"He has a boyfriend."

Craig raised an eyebrow. "You just get more and more attractive don't you? Young, unavailable, gorgeous." Then his face fell. "Not that I'm into kids or anything. But you don't look sixteen."

"Sorry."

He sighed. "That's okay. But if you ever come to the Gecko again, and I see you, I'm going to forget how old you are." Craig smiled and went to go help someone else.

Aaron nudged him. "You shoulda asked for his number."

Clark laughed. "He's twenty-two." Never mind that he was the same age as Lex. "And I'm only sixteen." Once again, normally not a problem. "And I have a boyfriend."

"Yeah, but ... I mean, I go through boyfriends all the time. Or is it different in Smallville?"

"Well, yeah, it's different. I'm not out, for one. Just to my friends and family."

"Why not?"

Clark shrugged. "Small town. Small minds. I'm uncomfortable with people I don't know that well knowing. I mean, I don't even know what I am. Like, gay or bi or what."

"So?"

"What?"

Aaron shrugged and took a drink of his margarita. "What does it matter if you don't have a label for yourself? It's all just words, anyway."

Clark nodded. "I know. But that's not the point. I just don't feel like I can be out to everyone. Or like I want to be. And Le ...Alex and I are really serious."

"Then why are you here and he's not?" Aaron began to run his fingers over Clark's arm.

"Because he's older than me," Clark answered honestly. "And he thought that I should come here and be with people my own age." He looked over at Craig and added ruefully, "I don't think he expected the bartender to hit on me."

Aaron laughed. "Yeah, that was trippy. But cool. Craig is hot." He finished his drink. "Look, by the end of the night, I'm going to do two things. One, I'm going to try and kiss you. Two, I'm going to give you my number and e-mail. The kiss is for me; you're too cute to pass up without trying. The phone and e-mail is for you, so we can keep in touch and you can come down here once in a while and do things with people your own age at the center. Plus, I want to get to know you better."

Clark's face felt like it was on fire. He took a long drink of his margarita and then ran the glass over his forehead. "Uh," he said, turning back. "Uh, okay."

"Cool. Let's go dance." He grabbed Clark's hand and pulled him to the floor. Just before they joined the crowd, Aaron stood on his toes, wrapped his arms around Clark's neck and planted a firm kiss on his lips. "I'll see you later," he whispered into Clark's lips. Then he kissed Clark again before dancing off.

"Feeling okay?" Chloe asked, materializing next him.

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"I just caught you in a lip-lock with another guy. The other day, you were kissing me because you needed to feel normal. So what was that about?"

Clark shrugged. "Apparently, I'm too cute to pass up."

Chloe started laughing.

"What's going on?" Sydney asked.

"I was right. The corruption begins. Someone told Clark he was cute, and now he's repeating it back to me," she said.

"But I don't believe it," Clark hastened to assure her. "Oh, and do you believe the bartender hit on me?"

Chloe laughed harder.

"What?"

"You. Only you would sound so confused by that. Me? I'm not surprised at all." She made a big show of wiping her eyes. "Come on; let's go dance."

________________________________________

There was no reason to be nervous. None at all. Damien was his lover, not some complete stranger who'd picked him up for an easy fuck. He wasn't even Dominic's casual bedmate anymore, not since the summer. Not since July fourth.

Silly, that the date should be important. Not that it was. Dominic wasn't a romantic. Well, not really. Not much. Not ....

Okay, so, yes, he was a romantic. But only because he'd realized not too long ago that his relationship with Damien was the relationship. The one that was constantly promoted from the time of one's birth in television, in movies, in songs, and in books. The relationship one waited expectantly for one's entire life, even when you did not realize you were waiting. Not that anyone really believed it anymore, and yet ... well, people who were at the alter for the fifth time must still believe in "'till death do us part," or else they wouldn't be there. And, even if the relationship didn't last, if Damien were to grow tired of Dominic or vice versa, it still would have been the most important relationship of Dominic's life. The one he'd look back on when he was very old and remember with fondness, love, a little lust, and no regret.

No. There was nothing to be nervous about.

With a sigh and a sharp shake of his head, Dominic stepped out of the shower and reached for his towel.

This was the first time he'd stayed overnight in Smallville since the night Damien had returned. And that night, Dominic had spent most of the time unpacking Damien's things and trying to arrange the room to his comfort and liking.

Of course, faced with a man who was muttering to himself as he unpacked, put things away, took them out, and did it all again, trying to make things perfect, Damien had grown impatient. "It can wait," he'd said. "Come to bed."

But Dominic had been unable to do so. The movement, the activity kept him calm. Kept him from dwelling on the fact his lover was moving out.

"You knew it would happen," he scolded his reflection as he pulled his toothbrush from his travel case. "You knew he would eventually have to move out .... For God's sake, Dominic, it was nearly two months ago. Get over it." Thus scolded, he squeezed a glob of toothpaste on the brush and began brushing viciously.

It was sound advice, and advice he'd been giving himself almost every morning since Damien had left. It had been harder than Dominic had expected to wake up to an empty bed each morning. He missed the warmth, and the sense of comfort he'd known when Damien was there. Having Damien in his home, having his home become their home .... It had been wonderful. Yes, Damien had been injured, and that injury had made Dominic almost frantic with worry at times, but still ....

For the first time perhaps ever in his life, Dominic had experienced the kind of domestic happiness that everyone was supposed to have at least once. The one he'd missed in his childhood and brushed off as not important. He'd had it, and he wanted more than anything to have it once more.

Dominic sighed and opened the medicine cabinet. The abundance of medication contained within made him raise an eyebrow. Damien wasn't this sick. In fact, he wasn't even sick. His respiratory troubles had faded, although they did have to keep watch in case he got a cold. Any internal damage that he'd suffered was healing properly. He should only be on three medications, plus something for pain if needed, not ...

Ah. Lex. Asthma medication, four different kinds of pain prescriptions, three kinds of medicine for his allergies, an inhaler, an EpiPen in case Lex had went into anaphylactic shock (Dominic knew that Lex also had one), sun block with Lex's name written on it, and various vitamins.

Lex certainly was a full time job, he reflected as he closed the cabinet again. Dominic was very glad he'd passed on Lionel's offer to become Lex's assistant. He had a strong suspicion that if he'd taken it, Lex would be dead by now. Not a pleasant thought, but even with the help of his PDA, a rather large supply of Post-It's, and the small notebook he took with him everywhere, Dominic had a hard time keeping track of everything. And Lex, well, he needed close attention.

At least he used to. He's health had taken a turn for the better since moving to Smallville, something for which Dominic was profoundly grateful for. Despite the disdain he knew that Lex had always held him in, Dominic could never help the thrill of terror that ran through him any time Lex fell ill. Sickness and injury scared Dominic, to put it mildly. He was always discomforted by it and never sure how to act.

Which was what made his relationship with Damien so hard since the tornado. Dominic's impulse was to hover; Damien's was to act as if nothing had changed. There had to be a balance somewhere, and they were only just beginning to find it when Lionel had moved to Smallville, inciting Lex's almost frantic summons for Damien.

He leaned over the sink and rinsed his mouth out.

Sometimes, when he'd had a hard day (and those happened more and more frequently since Lionel had decided to begin working again from Smallville) Dominic wondered if Lex had called Damien back out of wounded dignity. He can't have missed the fact that Dominic's affections had irrevocably been transferred away from Lex and onto Damien. Not that Dominic didn't still have certain, well, yearnings. Tender feelings for the younger man. After all, Lex was fantastic. Strong, sophisticated, determined, and extremely handsome. And he did have to admit that should Lex issue an invitation to his bed, Dominic probably wouldn't say no. But that was sex and a sense of history. He'd fallen hard for Lex, harder than he'd ever fallen for anyone up until that time, and it wasn't something that was easily forgotten.

But what he now had with Damien .... It was very different. Once Dominic had stopped feeling as if Damien regarded him as a particularly tiresome cocker spaniel--the type that, despite the best intentions, one couldn't help but feel a bit fondness for--and begun to believe that Damien really did ... love him, well, Dominic's feelings had changed for good.

He put down his toothbrush and pulled a condom and small tube of lubricant from his travel case. Placing both in the pocket of his robe, which he slid on, he exited the bathroom and went into the bedroom.

Damien was propped in bed, the covers pulled to his waist. There was a book on his lap which he appeared to be perusing idly as he watched the news. When Dominic entered, he looked up, mouth turning up into a soft smile.

"Enjoy your shower?" he asked.

"Yes, I did." Feeling a little stiff, Dominic crossed the room and climbed into bed.

Damien set his book aside and turned, a wry expression on his face. "You do realize that the whole purpose of having the massaging head installed, as well as the Jacuzzi, which you've again declined to take advantage of, was to help one relax."

"I am relaxed."

"No, you are not." Damien pulled Dominic to him, but instead of initiating anything sexual, he merely kissed him gently, and then turned him around so he could rest against Damien. His arms came around Dominic as he settled. He was a little surprised. To be perfectly honest, Dominic wasn't in the mood for sex, but that hadn't stopped him from expecting it. It was the ritual: Dominic came down, performed some action on Lex's behalf, and Damien slept with him.

This was better.

Dominic sighed, closed his eyes, and rested he head against Damien's shoulder.

"Let me see if I can guess what you are worried about now," Damien said softly.

"I'm not worried about anything."

"You are worrying that I'll break if you touch me. I can assure you, I will not."

"But I might hurt you." Then he winced, biting his lower lip; he hadn't meant to say that.

Damien laughed softly. "Dominic, I've grown stronger since moving back, not weaker. And I know my limits, you know that. Have I ever asked you to do anything that I was physically unable to do without injuring myself?"

"No," he admitted.

"No, I haven't. I'm not stupid. I know I've been injured and that I'm lucky to even be alive. I'm not going to compromise that by doing something to injure me further. I want to recover. I want to walk again and be able to move my arms without pain. So I'm not going to push myself beyond what I can comfortably do."

Dominic sighed. "I know. I know. I just ...."

"Worry," Damien finished for him. "I know." He kissed Dominic's temple. "No, that wasn't what you were worrying about in the bathroom. You were worrying about being replaced by Martha Kent."

He snorted. "Please. I should only be so lucky. Do you know how glad I am that I won't have to deal with him every moment of the day? Not that I wanted him to be injured, of course, but the day he gave me control over the company, thus elevating me out of my personal assistant status, was one of the best of my life."

"Really?"

"In a manner of speaking. Seven months as his lapdog was quite enough, thank you. And to think, I did everything I could to get the position, and the only reason I did was because Lionel thought it would piss off Lex."

"You did your job remarkably well. Both your duties and pissing Lex off."

Dominic chuckled weakly. Somehow, compliments from Damien inevitably sounded backhanded. Even though he knew they weren't, they always felt so. "Thank you," he finally said.

"I mean it, Dominic. And not because I don't think you capable of doing the job well. I didn't at the time, but now I know better."

He frowned. "Everything comes so easy for you."

"The simple benefit of knowing what I want, which is for Lex to succeed. Personal fame, glory, and riches aren't as important as helping another rise to the top. I am not a born leader, and I've always known that of myself." Damien stroked Dominic's neck. "The reason you struggle so is because you don't know where you are most comfortable. You want power, but, more than that, you want more power. Once you learn to be satisfied with what you have, things will come easier for you, too."

"Things have been a bit easier since I've thrown my lot in with Lex."

"Because you realized that you will never replace Lex in Lionel's eyes. You might not lead, but your role--our role is no less vital."

Dominic shook his head. "No. I suppose not." Pulling away from Damien, he turned. "A few months ago, had you called me to go over the Talon's books for accounting errors or a similar task, we would have already had sex by now, and I'd be either readying to leave, or we'd be asleep."

His face shifted and he frowned, as if trying to see Dominic's point. "Yes."

"What's changed? Why are we sitting here talking instead of you trying to get rid of me?"

"I thought that was obvious." He touched the side of Dominic's face. "My feelings for you have changed, as well as my perception of you. Before, all I knew was the simpering sycophant who worked for Lionel and made himself a fool over Lex. Even when you seduced me ...."

"I did not seduce you," Dominic corrected, a smile tugging at his lips.

"You made the first move."

"You opened the wine."

Damien smiled. "I did. But I didn't expect you to drink quite so much." His smile deepened. "I did not expect to drink so much. But your conversation that night was captivating. Which is why I responded, I think."

"Because you liked my conversation."

"And your eyes." Damien touched Dominic's cheek gently. "Your eyes have always been bothersome to me. They show too much, and yet I cannot help but like that. Like looking at them and knowing how you feel. And that night, well, I didn't want to put a look of disappointment in them."

He laughed. "You slept with me because you didn't want to disappoint me."

"Something like that."

Dominic kissed him, and then sat back, his mood dampening. "But then it became a reward."

Damien sighed. "I never meant to be. Yes, it was, but I didn't feel as if it were an obligation I had to perform to keep you happy. And had I not enjoyed your company, I should never have continued it." He took Dominic's hand.

"You are, at least, honorable."

"No, I am not. But you managed to show a side of yourself to me that I could respect, and as I grew to respect you, my feelings changed." He furrowed his eyebrows. "You don't still feel as if I'm merely rewarding you for services rendered, do you?"

Dominic shook his head. "No. Because, a few months ago, had you called me to go over the Talon's books for accounting errors or a similar task, we would have already had sex by now, and we'd be asleep. Instead, we are here, together, talking as if we are equals. As if you really care for me."

Damien brushed his fingers over Dominic's lips. "You know how I feel for you."

"I do." He kissed Damien again, and then laid down in his arms, hands sliding over the expanse of Damien's chest. "And that is why I worry about you. Not because I don't trust you to take care of yourself, but because I feel as if ... as if I'm allowed to really love you." He kissed Damien's chest.

Damien caressed Dominic's hair, but he remained silent. Closing his eyes so he could listen to his lover's steady breathing, Dominic dozed, blissfully content.

________________________________________

The club closed at midnight to a chorus of groans. There was talk of people going out to a local diner that was open all night, and Sydney tried to convince Chloe and Clark that they should go, but both refused. Chloe had sworn up at down to her father that she'd go straight back to Aunt Ellen's after the club, and she couldn't break her promise. Besides Clark was looking overwhelmed and tired, and she didn't want him to feel as if he had to go.

Aunt Ellen picked them up a little after twelve, and they made it back to the apartment. "Have a good night," she said as she went back to her room. "Try to keep the noise level down."

"We will," Chloe promised, going to the kitchen and pulling out drinks for them all. "So, Clark, did Aaron give you his number?"

Clark nodded and accepted the soda she handed him. "Yeah. And his e-mail address. He said I should think about coming down next month for the bowl-a-thon the center's having."

"I did that last year," Sydney said. "It was so much fun. You get to the alley at seven, doors close at eight, and then you bowl and stuff all night. It's not just bowling; they have a video game room, and karaoke, and a small dance space. There's other stuff too. It's a lot of fun."

"Yeah, it doesn't sound too bad." He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "I know we're supposed to watch a movie, but do you mind if I just go to bed?"

"You okay, Clark?" Chloe asked, concerned. She went to him and touched his arm gently.

He nodded, blinking slowly. "I'm just tired. The week took a lot out of me as it was, and tonight was just ... it was great, don't get me wrong. I had a great time. I'm just beat."

"That's fine. You take the guest bedroom and Sydney and I will sleep out here tonight." She kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Chlo'. Night Sydney."

"Night, Clark."

Clark pecked Chloe on the cheek and then stumbled out of the room.

For the first time all night, Chloe was alone with Sydney. Before Clark had even disappeared down the hall, all the guilt and shame she'd been feeling since Homecoming pressed around her.

Sydney didn't notice Chloe's sudden change in mood. She grabbed the chips and dip and went into the living room. "You coming?" she called.

"Yeah." Chloe took a long, bracing drink of her soda, wishing that it were alcohol. She'd only ever had alcohol once, and that was when she'd broken up with Lana, but, suddenly, she was really craving a drink.

With a deep, steadying breath, Chloe went into the living room and sat next to Sydney.

"I had a really good time tonight," Sydney said, sliding close to her. She put her arm around Chloe's waist and kissed her neck. "You looked beautiful."

"Thanks. I had fun too." Her voice came out forced.

Sydney frowned. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" Chloe asked, plastering on a smile.

"You seem uncomfortable or something. What's wrong?"

Chloe took a hitching breath, feeling her mask crumble. "Sydney," she said shakily, "there's something I have to tell you."

"What is it?"

"Sydney ... I sort of ... I sort of made out with Lana last weekend."

There was an ominous silence. Chloe dared to look at Sydney under her lashes.

Sydney looked stricken, her blue eyes huge and betrayed, lower lip trembling. Her normally rosy cheeks were pale and she sitting very straight. She pulled away from Chloe and folded her hand in her lap.

Chloe felt sick. Shaking her head, she said, "I'm so sorry. I never meant to ...."

She inhaled audibly and gave a sharp shake of her head, cutting Chloe off. "Why would you do that to me?"

"I didn't mean to."

"That doesn't make me feel very good, Chloe."

"I know. I know it doesn't. God, Sydney, I just ... I was at Homecoming. And she came in and ... guess I still have feelings for her or something. I went to my office and she followed me and we were talking and then she kissed me."

"She kissed you," Sydney said, sounding hopeful. "And you pulled away, right? You told her you had a girlfriend and ..."

"No," she replied softly. "No, I didn't. I didn't say anything, and I feel so awful for that. For betraying your trust. I never wanted to hurt you, and I still ... I'm just so confused right now."

"About what? Is it about me? Am not doing something right?"

"Sydney, you are doing everything right. And it has nothing to do with you; it's me."

"Don't say things like that," Sydney said sharply. "You might think that it's really you and not me, but all I hear you saying is that I am not good enough for you."

"No, Sydney. It's not about that. I'm just so confused." Chloe tried to hold back her tears, but failing. Wiping her cheeks, she said, "I thought I was over Lana, but I don't think I am. Not completely. And it's not you, exactly, it's just that you're so far away and Lana was ... aggressive. She's not usually like that."

"Why didn't you say anything before? I mean, God, we've been dating for months, and you ...."

"I swear I thought I was over her, Sydney. I didn't realize I still had feelings like that for her."

"Then why didn't you tell me when you kissed her? Why did you hide it?"

"I didn't think that I should tell you over the phone."

"Well ... Well are you going to get back together with Lana?"

Her face crumpled and she shook her head. "No. No, I'm not." She was crying really hard now, shaking and feeling sick.

Sydney was silent a moment before she asked, "Do you want to?"

"I don't know!" Chloe sobbed, covering her face. "Oh, God, Syd, I don't know. I like you so much. I really do. And I went and did something completely, totally stupid, and I ... I was going to break up with you. Because I thought that was the right thing to do. You don't deserve such a shitty girlfriend. But I couldn't do it. Because, when we started talking, I realized how much I wanted to be with you and not her."

"I don't know what to say, Chloe." Sydney sounded like she was crying now, too. "I love being with you. But you cheated on me." She sniffed loudly.

"I'm sorry."

"I know, but ... the problem is, I don't know what to do. On the one hand, how can I trust you, but then, you have this weird, confusing history with her. If I wasn't so hurt, I could understand where you were coming from."

Chloe looked up. "You shouldn't have to. I shouldn't have done it."

Sydney shrugged, looking helpless. "We don't always do what we should."

"No. We don't." Chloe wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "So, do you want to dump me?"

"A part of me does, yeah. But another part of me doesn't want to, because I still really like you." She sighed. "What do you want to do?"

Chloe dropped her hands. "I don't know. I don't want to lose you. You're a really important person in my life."

"But I'll never be Lana."

"I don't want you to be Lana."

She smiled slightly. "Thanks. But sometimes I'm not so sure." She reached out and stroked Chloe's cheek. "Let's just ... see what happens, okay? Not do anything right now, just kind of wait until things calm down with both of us and see what we want to do. I don't ... I don't want to lose you as a friend, Chloe. Ever. And if we broke up right now, I don't know if I'd be strong enough to be friends."'

"If we broke up, it'd be because you deserve better."

"Maybe. But I'd feel like it was because I wasn't Lana, and that would make me doubt our entire relationship."

Chloe moved into her and hugged her tightly. "Sydney, meeting you was the one of the best things that's ever happened to me. I am so lucky to have you for a friend, and even luckier to have you for a girlfriend. We fit in a lot of ways, and if I lost you, I'd feel as if I lost part of myself."

"I feel the same way, Chloe. That's why I think that we should maybe cool things off relationship wise and make sure we have a solid friendship." She pulled back. "Not that I don't think we do, I just want to make sure. You know?"

"I know." Chloe sniffed loudly. "I am so sorry."

"I know. Just don't do it again, okay? If you want to get back together with her, break up with me first. At least I won't feel so awful then, feeling like I can't trust you, Okay?"

"I promise. But it will never happen again."

She smiled faintly. "I hope not."

________________________________________

Lex knocked on Damien's door and waited precisely fifteen seconds before entering. To his credit, he'd listened at the door first and, when he didn't hear anything but the television, figured it was safe. He also walked past the bed without looking at it, just to give them another moment to cover up.

"Alexander Joseph Luthor, get out of my medicine cabinet!" Damien said sharply just as Lex stepped into the bathroom.

He stopped and turned. "I don't think I've ever heard you call me that before."

Damien smiled faintly. "I don't, normally, but if you insist on acting like a child, I will start treating you as such."

Lex put on his most innocent expression and said, "I just wanted some water."

"Water. Of course. My mistake. How did dinner with your father go?"

Lex sighed and leaned against the doorjamb. Massaging his temples, he answered, "Wonderful. As always. He sent back every dish, insulted the waiter, the cook, the musicians, and anything else he could. And, yes, that includes me." He shook his head. "How did things go here? Is Nell stealing from me, Dominic?"

Dominic shifted in bed. He looked a little rumpled and tired. "Yes, she is," he said as he pulled his robe closer together.

"Figures. How much?"

"I estimate about three thousand dollars. Give or take."

Lex nodded slowly. "Well. That's not too bad I guess. Why didn't I notice it?"

"Do you go over the books each month and keep your own accounts?"

"Well. No."

Dominic shrugged. "There you are. I don't know where she's keeping the money, although I can find that out if you'd like. Your father has a file on her which I have access to. It might not have the bank account, but I will be able to trace her patterns until I find where she's funneling this money to."

Lex thought about it a moment, and then nodded. "Find out. And fax me the file. I'd like to know what my father and Nell's arrangement is."

"Oh, I can tell you that."

"Oh?"

Dominic nodded. "Yes. Lionel has agreed to support Nell in a comfortable style, as well as provide for Lana's education and any other needs, in exchange for Nell's ... occasional companionship." He smiled slightly. "He told me once he would have married her had he thought she were capable of conducting herself in a dignified manner in society. But, no matter what he did to teach her, she remained ... as she was. And, she is too much a businesswoman to really be happy being his wife; she'd rather run her own business ventures than play second to him. So, he's aided her in her investments and business, but on the condition that she continues to reside in Smallville or somewhere out of his main sphere of influence."

Lex arched an eyebrow and thought about this information. "So, basically, Nell can go anywhere but Metropolis?"

"Metropolis, Gotham, Edge City, and New York. And she can never be in competition with him, and, believe me, given the chance, she could. I know at one point she was in negotiations with Bruce Wayne for something--a job, or position, or something, I can't remember the details. When your father found out, he ... had words with Nell."

"I see. What's going on with them right now? Nell's getting married."

Dominic shrugged. "I don't know. I saw mention of her marriage, but don't know his reaction."

"I almost wonder if she's planning on leaving town. She's stealing from me. I wonder what kind of money Dean has." He bit his lip and looked at Damien thoughtfully.

Damien inclined his head. "I can have him investigated."

"Thank you." He sighed and rubbed his eyes, feeling the headache building up behind them. "I'm so tired of playing these stupid games with Dad," Lex admitted, walking into the room. "Business games I'm fine with. Trying to keep one step ahead of him is a way of life. But these petty personal things with his mistresses drive me crazy."

"It won't be as much as an issue in the future; he has gotten rid of all of them for now, although Christina Martin has retained her stocks and voting rights in the company."

"Good." Lex checked a yawn and looked at his watch; it was after midnight. "Thank you, Dominic, for coming out here."

"Of course."

"I'm going to go to bed." He glanced longingly at Damien's bathroom, but Damien simply cleared his throat; when Lex glanced at him, he shook his head. "Fine," Lex sighed. "Good-night."

"Sleep well, sir," Damien said as he left the room.

"Right," Lex muttered under his breath. His brain felt as if it were working overtime; dinner had been a duel of words between him and his father as they debated business practices, Lionel's decision to hire Martha Kent, and Greek history. Now he had to deal with the fact his business partner was stealing from him.

Despite all the thoughts pressing at his mind, exhaustion was making his body heavy. Lex didn't even bother to brush his teeth, instead, collapsing on his bed the moment he stepped into his room. A warm, heavy fog settled over his mind and muscles turned to much. "Clark," he muttered before he felt a ^tug^ at his mind. When he opened his eyes again, he was in Kiptin.

"Hey," he said, rolling over into Clark, who was stretched out on the bed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Clark smiled and kissed him. "Why?"

"I think you pulled me in, that's all. You usually don't do that unless you're in trouble."

Clark shrugged and pulled Lex on top of him. "You weren't doing anything important, were you?"

"I was worrying about whether or not I'd be able to fall asleep. You did me a favor."

"You're welcome then." Clark kissed his cheek and then mouth. "How was dinner with your father?" he asked, keeping his lips on Lex's skin.

Lex shivered. "Dinner with Dad was the same as it always. Stressful, angering, and frustrating." He sighed and buried his face in Clark's neck. "How is it he can drive me so insane and get away with it?"

"He's your father."

"Oh. Right." He kissed Clark's neck. "God, I haven't been here in forever; I forgot how good it felt. Remind me never to break up with you again."

"Never break up with me again," Clark said promptly, tightening his arms around Lex.

"I won't. I promise. Ever," he said with an intensity that surprised him.

Clark lifted his head. "You okay?" He sounded worried.

Lex nodded and rubbed his eyes. "I'm fine. I'm just stressed, that's all. Don't worry about me or anything I say." He smiled crookedly. "How was the club?"

"It was fun." Clark blushed. "Uh, the bartender hit on me."

"Excuse me?"

"He knew me from that club I went to when I was high on the red meteor rock. He gave me a free drink. When he found out how old I was, he was upset, but didn't do anything."

Lex shook his head. "Jesus, Clark, what is it with you and older guys?"

"He was your age."

"Last time I checked, I'm actually older than you."

Clark laughed and kissed him between his eyes. "I like older guys. You're sexier. Except, Craig wasn't my type at all. Aaron kind of was."

"Aaron?"

"Yeah. He's a friend of Sydney's and we hung out for a little while." Clark sighed. "At first he was hitting on me, but then I told him about you, so he backed off. But not totally. He does a lot of things with the center and said that I should too. He gave me his number and e-mail. And, uh, and he kissed me."

Lex closed his eyes, fighting back jealousy. Everything about Clark's tone and mind indicated that he wasn't seriously attracted to this guy, so there was no reason to be jealous. But that didn't make the jealousy go away; someone else had touched what was his. That someone should die.

"Lex?"

"Give me a minute. I'm thinking of all the ways to extract my revenge on this guy."

Clark laughed--he actually laughed--and swatted Lex on the butt. "Calm down, Lex, my heart and body still belong to you."

"But he touched you," Lex said.

Clark laughed again and ran his finger along Lex's lower lip. "Apparently I'm attractive."

He snorted. "I could have told you that."

"And you have." Clark kissed him gently.

"You seem to be getting kissed an awful lot this week."

Clark blushed and laughed again, looking embarrassed. "I know. Trust me when I say it won't be a habit. These lips belong to you.

Lex took advantage of that statement, ending the conversation for a few minutes. When the broke apart, Clark was flushed and looking slightly amused.

"What?"

"You. You're the one who's been encouraging me to get out, do things with people my age. To date around a little. I'm not sleeping with anyone and, yeah, okay, so I'm a little uncomfortable with them kissing me, but it doesn't mean anything. Not really. Even Aaron just kissed me because he thought I was cute; he didn't think it was going to go anywhere." He caressed Lex's cheek with his index finger. "I know you can't help feeling jealous, but ... but it confuses me. You know?"

Lex propped himself on his elbows. "How so?"

He sighed heavily. "You want me to go out with other people and do things with them. You encouraged me to go to Homecoming with Theresa. You used to talk about me dating with other people. I've been trying to find out if I even can be attracted to other people, and you're encouraging of that too. But the moment I display interest in someone, or, actually, them in me, you get tense and possessive. Which is fine, and I understand, but, at the same time, it makes me tense and edgy and ... uncomfortable." He licked his lips. "I feel guilty. I'm feeling guilty right now that I had a good time with Aaron, and that I thought he was cute and that I didn't mind him kissing me."

Guilt immediately suffused Lex and he felt his ears grow warm. Dropping his eyes to Clark's chest, he said softly, "I'm sorry, Clark. I'm not meaning to send out mixed signals, I'm just in a bad position, here. On the one hand I feel as if I have no right to demand as much as I do or as much as I want to of you. I'm not used to monogamy and if feels like I'm asking a lot of you to be monogamous."

"Is it asking a lot of yourself, too?" he asked quietly.

Lex thought a moment before shaking his head. "No. Not as much as I would have thought before we got together. Yes, there have been people I've been attracted to since getting together with you. But not strongly enough to want them. I'm not missing out on anything, and I'm gaining a lot more."

Clark smiled and took Lex's hand in his. He lifted it to his mouth and kissed it.

A little embarrassed, Lex cleared his throat. "Anyway, because I'm older, and we are so serious, I do feel as if I have to encourage you remember to be young. And being young involves either dating or, at least, flirting with people your age. But, at the same time, I hate anyone getting close to you. It makes me a little uncomfortable."

He frowned and looked a little confused. "Uncomfortable? Like because I'm an alien?"

"No," Lex answered slowly, although, deep down, he did know that was part of it. After a moment, he shook his head and said, "Well, in some ways, yes. There is always going to be some measure of concern about people getting too close because you are an alien. But that's not what I'm talking about right now." He ran his knuckles down the side of Clark's face and neck. "You're special to me. You have to know that. And the possessive part of me wants a monopoly over you. I don't deserve one--no one does, because no one has the right to demand that much of anyone--but I can't help how I feel."

"It's like how I felt about Victoria, huh?" Clark said. "How I went insane when I thought about her touching you. Anyone touching you."

"Yes, it is. I don't mean to give you mixed signals, Clark. I truly don't. I want what's best for you and, unfortunately, what's best for you is not locking you in a room, far, far away from everyone else." He smiled gently. "Letting you live is what's best, and I have to let you do that. Don't let my neuroses and jealousy take that away."

Clark bit his lower lip and stroked Lex's scalp. When he didn't speak for a long moment, Lex kissed him, tugging his lip out of his mouth. "What's going on in your mind, Clark?" he asked.

"I'm just wondering how we're going to deal with this, that's all. I want to see Aaron again. He seemed nice and I could use some gay friends."

"I agree."

"But, at the same time, I hate it when you get jealous."

"Then let me deal with that. It's not your problem. I need to learn how to share and you need to learn how to let me deal with my own feeling." He scooted further up and threaded his fingers through Clark's hair. "I know it's a lot for me to ask, having you deal with your feelings and fight your natural inclination to make me feel better. Believe me, I know it's hard. But me being jealous doesn't mean I don't trust you, or that I don't want you to have a life outside of me."

Clark nodded and wound his arms around Lex again, holding him tightly. "I know." he sighed. "I know. But I would rather us .... I'd rather everything not hurt so much."

Lex nodded and kissed his cheek. "I know. But this doesn't have to be painful, just troubling."

"Same thing."

"No. It's only painful if we let it be so. If we let it interfere in our lives. As jealous as I might be when someone else displays interest in you, I'd be ten times unhappier if I thought you were denying yourself for me. This is nothing, not really."

"It feels like it is. I hate when you get upset."

"Well, then, I'll work on learning not to be jealous and you work on not letting my irrational feelings upset you."

He considered it a moment before nodding. "We can do that." He traced Lex's lips. "To be fair, you try not to let it interfere. I mean, you stayed with me while I wrote to Whitney, and you do listen to me talk about him. I know how much it bothers you."

Lex snorted. "He thinks he's in love with you. He's off at war and looks great in uniform. That's hard to compete with."

"It's a good thing, then, that you're not in competition with him," Clark answered. He slid his hand underneath Lex's shirt at the small of his back and rested, lending a comfortable heat.

Lex lowered his head to rest on Clark's shoulder, trying to think of a way to avoid a conversation about Whitney. The problem wasn't that he was necessarily jealous of Whitney so much as he hated to be indebted to him. Whitney had had the courage to stand up to Lionel, without any thought of the consequences. He'd risked his family and his future to save Clark, and while he might not have been fully aware of the risk he took, Lex had no doubt that it wouldn't have mattered to him.

To make matters worse, there was a large part of Lex that was still afraid that he wouldn't be able to take the same risk. He loved Clark with all his heart, but he was terrified that, if his father or anyone else ever forced him to risk his own life, fortune, and future for Clark, he wouldn't be able to do it. He wanted to think he could, and he knew Clark believed in him, but Lex had a hard time mustering a belief in himself, despite the vows and promises he'd made Clark in the past.

"Are you okay?" Clark stroked his back.

"I'm fine. I'm just a little tense." He lifted his head. "Nell's stealing money from the Talon and I have a feeling she's about to make some sort of move against my father or something. I'm unclear on the details, but I'm uneasy for some reason." He sighed and rubbed his eyes, wondering if he could get a headache in Kiptin.

"What are you going to do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Not yet. I'll probably try to get my money back at one point, but, again, I don't know when or how."

"Can't you, like, sue her or something?"

"Oh, I can level charges against her at any time and get my money back through legal methods. I just don't know if I want to do it that way."

A shadow passed over Clark's face. "So you're going to break the law."

"She broke the law."

"And that makes it okay for you? Geeze, Lex, this isn't kindergarten. 'She did it first' isn't a good argument."

Lex slid off of Clark so he could sit on the bed. He folded his legs in front of him and rubbed his eyes again, breathing deeply. Again, he found himself wondering at the reality of Kiptin. He knew he was in his mind, but his mind was still in his body, so he supposed that he could be taking whatever pain his body was feeling and projecting it into this state. Except, he'd never done that before; Kiptin had always been blissfully headache free. And his head didn't exactly hurt so much as Lex was tense enough to know it would hurt were he awake.

He dropped his hand and looked at Clark, who had sat up as well. "There are recourses that I can take that don't involve legal action that are not illegal," Lex said, keeping his voice as calm as possible. "I could confront her and demand the money back. I could come to a private arrangement with her. I could allow her to simply have the money she's already taken, but not allow her access to the Talon in the future. And that's just off the top of my head. I simply haven't decided on any action to take yet because I've only known for sure she was stealing for about an hour now."

"Oh," Clark said softly, looking down at his legs. "Sorry."

He sighed. "Don't be, Clark. You're only doing what I once asked you to do, which was be my moral compass. I'm just, you know. With you on this one." Lex smiled tentatively and held out his hand.

After a moment, Clark took it. "I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. I just don't want you to cross any lines."

"I know. And I'll try not to but, honestly? Sometimes blackmail is a man's best friend."

Clark paled. "Lex ...."

"Clark, please." Lex sighed and felt a headache-like sensation pounding behind his eyes. This was not good; Kiptin was supposed to be a sanctuary, not a new place to debate business ethics. "I'll do my best to conform to your moral code. I promise. Can we please not talk about this anymore?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I just worry about you." He pulled Lex into his arms and lay back down.

"I know," Lex said, voice muffled as he pressed it into Clark's chest. "And I appreciate it, I do. I'm simply tired and frustrated right now, so I'm not exactly in the best condition to explain myself effectively."

Clark massaged his back. "I know." He kissed the top of Lex's head. "We'll talk about something else."

"Thank you." Lex placed a kiss on Clark's chest. "I notice that you're not upset like you were after Homecoming."

"What do you mean?"

"Last weekend you were upset because you weren't attracted to Theresa and took that as an indication that something was wrong with you. Am I to take the fact that you're not upset now as an indication that you were attracted to Aaron in some way?"

Clark's hand hesitated momentarily before resuming the massage. "I guess. I ... yeah." He sighed. "And not just Aaron. I mean, he came onto me more than anyone else, except the bartender, but I felt more comfortable there than I did at Homecoming." He paused and then said, "Well, sort of. I kind of freaked out when I first got there, but after that, I don't know. Since I wasn't home, I let myself notice people more, and I didn't feel the same pressure as Homecoming since I wasn't there with a date."

Lex lifted his head. "And you found yourself attracted to people."

"Not like I am to you. But, yeah." He shrugged. "I think I'm more gay than not. I mean, I mostly noticed guys, even though there were some really nice looking women too. But I also think that, because it was a gay and straight club, and I was there for a fundraiser for the center, I felt ... allowed to be attracted?" Clark hesitated and looked at Lex as if to make sure he was making sense.

He nodded encouragingly.

The lines on Clark's face smoothed. "When Whitney and I first started to hang out with each other, and I started getting a crush on him, I felt so guilty. And frustrated with myself. Not just because I felt like I was betraying you, but I thought he was straight. And I kept thinking how stupid I was for being attracted to a straight guy, and how he'd probably try to, like, beat me up if he found out. But at the club, that stress wasn't there." He shrugged. "I wasn't distracted and guilty. And there was no pressure to actually hook up with anyone, so I just had fun." Clark smiled. "I'm glad I went."

Lex moved up to kiss him. "I'm glad you went to. It sounds like something you needed to do."

"I did." He exhaled slowly, letting his head fall back onto the pillow and eyes closed. "It's just been such a weight, you know? Ever since Desiree. I know I'm an alien, and I know I'm different, but ... but being attracted to people and getting crushes and stuff is so much a part of being human. Even my mom gets silly about Brad Pitt and Paul Newman." A blushed colored his cheeks. "I just want to have something in common with everyone else. I want to be able to hang out with Pete and check out people, or participate in conversations about movie stars and models and stuff and mean it. I know it's a stupid little thing, and that having some vague crush on someone I'll never even meet shouldn't matter, but it's natural. It's human and I want that." Clark shook his head. "I'm not making any sense."

"No, I think I get it. You struggle a lot, Clark, trying to figure out where your humanity ends and alienness begins. And it's natural; you were raised as a human, so all your life you expected to respond to things in a human way. And, on the whole, you do. The concept that you are an alien is still very new to you, and you're trying to figure out what that means. At the forefront of your mind seems to be your responsibility in helping other people, hiding your abilities from them even as you explore them on your own, and doing your best not to hurt anyone." Lex trailed his fingers over Clark's forehead. "And then, when something else happens and you don't react the way you'd expect if you were human, your mind turns to that. Desiree scared you, Clark, so much that you concentrated on one moment of not being as susceptible as any human male to her, and forgot about all the other times you were attracted to people. And, in doing so, you felt horribly alienated from the people around you."

"But I'm not as attracted to anyone as I am you," Clark said.

He shrugged. "So? You're in love with me. I'm not as attracted to anyone as I am you. I think that's a good thing." He kissed Clark briefly. "But what I'm actually trying to say is that I understand why you were so uncomfortable with the idea you might not be attracted to people. Because you do live in this world, and you were raised human, and attraction and lust and love are all tied up with being human. If you didn't feel like that, you would be missing out on something."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "But I'm not. Missing out, I mean."

"No. You're not."

He smiled faintly, before his face darkened. "I'm sorry I'm so difficult, Lex," he said softly, not meeting Lex's eyes. "I'm sure you must get tired of me constantly getting stressed over this alien thing."

His stomach clenched hard at Clark's words, and he felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him. "Don't ever think that," he said, voice shaking at the edges. "Don't ever think that your issues with being an alien aren't important or that I can just brush them off that easily. Yes, sometimes, I wish the issues didn't exist, and I feel the strain of trying to help you deal with them, but not because I'm tired of you, Clark." He cupped Clark's cheek. "When you're upset and frustrated, I want to help. But this isn't my journey, so I can only do so much. And I never feel as if it's enough, so if I seem frustrated or angry to indifferent, it's because I want to do more and can't."

"Oh," Clark said softly. He bit his lip and looked away. "I just feel like so much trouble sometimes."

"You're not, angel. And, even if you were, I'd still be here. I love you, and I don't love easily. But once I do, you're stuck with me." He smiled tentatively.

The smile spread over Clark's face, and he turned his head. "Stuck with you, huh?"

"Like glue," Lex responded, his smile losing the tentativeness to become a full-fledged grin.

"Good. That makes my plans a lot easier."

"Plans?"

"Yeah. The plan where I keep you. It's easier if you stick around."

Lex settled on top of Clark and wrapped his arms around his neck. "Yeah, it is. And it sounds like a good plan," he whispered as he lowered his head to kiss Clark.

"Yeah," Clark sighed back, meeting the slow, languorous kisses with his own. "The best."


End file.
